Beneath The Mask You Wear
by ColferPervertSoldier
Summary: The Phillips twins have a strange dynamic. Kurt's the favored, golden child (at least, in the eyes of their parents). Carson... not so much. They're still very close, though. No matter what, they know they'd do anything for each other. So what happens when the heart starts to want what it shouldn't? A Glee/SBL crossover loosely based on the TV show "Skins." Kurt/Carson pairing
1. Chapter 1

__**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi, guys! Ok, before we start, I know that a lot of you were a little... erm... miffed at us for the ending of _Unbreakable Bonds_, so let me just assure you right now that there is absolutely NO major character death in the fic you're about to read. Zero. Nada. Zip. :D**

**That said... welcome to the newest Kurson collaboration between me and Carol (aka Colferlovers on Tumblr). This is a very AU, darker version of Kurson that is going to be (very loosely) based on the UK television show Skins. I say very loosely based because, while some elements of the TV show will be used (such as location and cameos by minor characters), this fic, by and large, stands on its own. Sort of like a new generation of Skins. So, even if you've never watched the show, it doesn't matter. This fic is its own being, and you can enjoy it on its own. We hope you enjoy it, anyway.**

**So... *fingers crossed* Let's begin!**

_BEEP! BEEP!_

Carson Phillips groaned and sleepily reached one hand out of the warmth of his blankets to bat lazily at his alarm clock. He really wanted to throw it against the wall for interrupting the awesome dream he'd been having. He'd been standing up on a stage, happily accepting his Nobel Prize and smirking out at all the awestruck faces in the audience. It had felt exhilarating. He'd just been about to make his speech when his damn alarm clock had decided to be an asshole and rip him from his dream world.

"Stupid piece of shit," he grumbled, punching the clock to get it to shut up. He yawned and sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and stretching his arms out. He was tired just thinking about going to school. He was in no mood to deal with bullshit today, and unfortunately for him, bullshit pretty much reigned supreme at school. As it had always been and as it always was to be, he supposed. He wondered if it was like that throughout the entire world, or if it was just England.

_Probably the whole world_, he thought, yawning again. He heard a soft padding of footsteps out in the hallway and quickly settled himself back down into his blankets, pulling them over himself and burying his face in his pillow. It was sort of a week day tradition for Kurt, his twin brother, to come into Carson's room to gently wake him up. Kurt had been doing that ever since they'd started Year 1, and even though they were now in Year 10, and even though Carson would never, _ever_ admit it, especially not to Kurt, he found it very sweet and comforting. It was one thing he could count on to remain consistent in his otherwise admittedly crappy life.

He closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep as he heard his door quietly open and Kurt's footsteps gliding softly across the room toward Carson's bed. He felt a slight weight against his thigh as Kurt carefully perched himself on the edge of the bed, and then there was a warm breath against his ear as his twin leaned down next to him.

"Carson," he whispered, gently shaking Carson's shoulder. "Carson. Are you awake?"

"Barely," Carson grumbled.

"It's 7:15," said Kurt, a little louder now.

"Congratulations, you can tell time," replied Carson. "They should just let you into university now and be done with it."

"Don't be an asshole," Kurt admonished him, grabbing a pillow and whacking Carson over the head with it. "We have to leave in 45 minutes, so get your ass up."

"Ok, ok. Jesus," Carson muttered, sitting up in bed and narrowing his eyes at his brother. "You're a bossy little shit, you know that?"

"And you're a sarcastic one," replied Kurt sweetly, patting Carson on the shoulder. "Now get up out of bed before I drag you out." He left his perch on the end of Carson's bed and stood up, and Carson could see that he was already impeccably dressed in one of his patented, fashionable Kurt outfits, complete with tight pants and a royal blue scarf. Carson smiled to himself. The fact that he found Kurt's fashion choices completely adorable (most of the time) was another thing he would never admit to his twin.

"Well, come on, then. Up!" Kurt ordered, and Carson gave an exaggeratedly pained sigh.

"I'm up, I'm up," he said. "Are you done in the bathroom, or do I have twenty minutes to kill while you do whatever black magic it is you do to your face?"

"I love you, too," said Kurt with a smile, heading for the door. "I'll see you downstairs when you're done."

Carson watched him go, and then he got up out of bed and heaved a huge sigh as he shuffled his way toward the bathroom. He brushed his teeth and showered as quickly as possible before making his way back to his room, where he pulled on his standard everyday uniform of jeans, a T-shirt, and a blue hooded sweatshirt. He grabbed his book bag, running his fingers through his still slightly damp hair, and bounded down the stairs, sliding into a seat at the kitchen table across from their father just as Kurt was putting down two plates of toast. One was plain, and the other had jam spread on it, which Carson knew was for him. Kurt knew how much he couldn't stand plain toast.

"Strawberry. My favorite," Carson said, grabbing a piece and taking a huge bite.

"I know," said Kurt, setting down his own plate and going to the refrigerator for the orange juice. "Dad, do you want more coffee while I'm still up?"

"Please," Neal Phillips answered, peering briefly over his morning newspaper at Kurt and holding out his coffee cup so Kurt could refill it from the pot on the burner. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," answered Kurt, grabbing his glass of juice and settling down at the table beside Carson.

"Busy day at school today, son?" Neil asked next, and Carson calmly continued eating his toast, knowing full well that the question wasn't for him. The last time their father had expressed any interest in Carson's life beyond the basic acknowledgement of his existence was approximately never. Twins had not been planned on. Only one had been wanted, and neither parent ever missed an opportunity to remind Carson of that, whether it was giving Carson the smaller bedroom (complete with a smaller, lumpier bed), belittling his achievements while praising Kurt's, or outright groaning that life was so much harder with two children. It was a basic fact of life by now, and he was so used to it that he barely even noticed anymore. In a way, he was grateful for it. It meant that they left him alone.

Not that he ever held any of this against Kurt. He didn't. He never could quite bring himself to hold anything against Kurt, really. Anyway, it wasn't Kurt's fault that he was the favored twin any more than it was Carson's fault that he wasn't. He didn't see the point in blaming Kurt for that. Besides, Kurt had never been anything but good to him. He was one of the only people, in fact, besides their maternal grandmother, who had ever consistently treated him with kindness.

"Um, yeah," Kurt replied to their father's question, swallowing a bite of toast. "I have an exam first thing. English."

"Are you ready for it?" asked Neal, flipping the page of his newspaper.

"I guess so," said Kurt. "I studied and all."

"Of course you did," said Neal, giving Kurt a small smile. "You're a good student."

"The best," their mother, Sheryl, added as she padded into the kitchen, still in her bathrobe. "Please tell me there's coffee."

"On the burner, Mom," said Kurt. "Anyway," he added, glancing over briefly at Carson, "Carson helped me study. He went over the terms with me and everything. He's actually doing much better in that course than I am."

"Uh-huh," murmured Sheryl, pouring out a cup of coffee. "That's nice."

"Mmm," their father said with clear disinterest. "Oh, hey, before I forget, Kurt, here's your allowance," he added, reaching into his wallet and taking out a stack of notes, which he pressed into Kurt's eager hand.

"Thanks!" Kurt squealed, taking the money and stuffing it into his pants pocket. Neil paused slightly with his wallet in hand before taking out a significantly smaller stack of notes and sliding it across the table to Carson.

"I guess you have to have some, too," he said with a sigh, putting his wallet away. "Don't spend it all in one place. You won't get any more until next month."

"Wouldn't dream of it," said Carson, taking the money and sliding it carefully into his own pocket. He finished off the rest of his toast and got up from the table, sliding his book bag over his shoulder. "I have to go."

"Wait for me," Kurt said. Carson waited in the corner of the kitchen, watching as Kurt finished off his own last bite of breakfast and delicately brushed the crumbs off of his hands before grabbing his own book bag.

"Bye, Kurt!" said Neal, giving Kurt a small wave and completely ignoring Carson.

"Bye, boys," Sheryl added. "Have a good day."

"Yeah, right," Carson muttered as he and Kurt walked outside the front door and into the crisp October air. Truthfully, he kind of enjoyed the daily walk to school with Kurt, even if he'd rather be strapped to an electric chair than on his way to be stuck in a building with morons all day long.

"So," said Kurt as they walked down the busy street. "I got a very interesting Facebook message from Rachel last night."

Carson groaned. "Jesus Christ, not again."

Kurt snorted and nodded. "Again, I'm afraid. She wanted to invite us to the little Halloween get-together her dads are throwing this weekend."

"And you said no, right?" asked Carson, casually kicking a rock in front of him. Rachel Berry was a girl in Kurt's after-school glee club whom neither of them could stand. She was very loud, and as annoying as she was short, which was very. Unfortunately for Carson, lately she'd seemed to become irritatingly fixated on him, and was about as subtle about her crush as a hammer to the face. He usually went as far out of his way as possible to avoid her. So, the very thought of attending any event hosted by her made Carson's skin crawl.

"Of course I said no!" Kurt insisted. "What do you take me for? It was a close thing, though. I mean, I'm just as annoyed by her as the next person, but she did say there'd be apple bobbing, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious about exactly how many apples a couple of those boys in glee club can fit in their mouths at once..."

"Please stop talking," Carson said. "If I have to think about any of them putting things in their mouths, I'll lose my breakfast. Besides, you don't need to be thinking about them doing that." Carson felt weirdly protective over Kurt most of the time, especially when it came to boys. He knew that Kurt was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, but he couldn't help it. He figured maybe it was because he was three minutes older than Kurt. He had an obligation to be a protective big brother, didn't he?

"She particularly wanted to know if _you_ would be interested in going," Kurt continued, ignoring Carson's last comment, his voice lilting teasingly and his blue eyes sparkling with merriment.

"I'm sure she did," said Carson dryly. "If she asks again, tell her I'd rather get a blowjob from a cobra."

"Such a way with words you have," said Kurt, slipping his hand in Carson's and swinging their arms back and forth. "You'll have to tell her that yourself, though. I have to work with her in the afternoons."

At long last, they reached their school and headed straight for their usual morning hangout, in the corner of the courtyard beneath the giant statue of a dolphin. There was already someone standing there, and Carson could see as they got closer that it was Seth Parker, Kurt's best friend since Year 2 and part of their admittedly small social circle. The sandy-haired boy was leaning casually up against the dolphin, taking long drags from a cigarette and blowing the smoke out in perfect rings.

"You're early today," said Kurt, sidling up beside him and setting his book bag carefully on the ground.

"For once," Carson added.

"Oh, shut up," replied Seth. "Someone had to get here first. Besides, it gave me a few minutes to ogle some ladies without either of you cockblocking me."

"And how did that work out for you?" asked Kurt sweetly. "Did you get any phone numbers this time, or just a couple of slaps to the face?"

"I said _ogling_, not _talking to_," retorted Seth, taking a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and offering it to Kurt.

"You know I don't smoke", Kurt admonished him, turning his nose up at them. "I have glee, and It's bad for my voice."

"So is alcohol, and that's never stopped you from getting plastered at parties," Seth pointed out.

"Or from smoking things besides cigarettes," Carson added, smirking.

"That's not nearly the same thing as inhaling god knows what that's in those things," insisted Kurt.

"Suit yourself," said Carson. "Hey, Seth, give me one of those, will you? _I_ don't have to worry about protecting _my_ voice." Seth obliged, handing Carson a cigarette and a lighter.

"Nor do I," piped up Santana Lopez, storming up to them and holding her hand out demandingly. "Fork over one of those things, Parker. Today is going to be shit and I'm gonna need it."

"Something wrong, Satan?" asked Carson. "Not that I care, mind you, but you seem just a little vexed."

"Just three fucking exams today, and I didn't study for a single one," said Santana with a shrug as she took the cigarette Seth handed her and lit it with a lighter she fished from her jacket pocket. "Not that it really matters. It's not like I'm going to uni, anyway. Fuck that. I'm getting out of here and going to New York once I'm cut loose from this place."

"You can come live with me," said Kurt. "I'm going there, too. I hope. We can live in a shitty flat and complain about our love lives. You can set me up with guys, I can set you up with, you know...whatever is floating your boat at the moment..."

"As exciting as that sounds, Casper, why don't we forget the future for a minute and focus on what we're going to do this weekend?" replied Santana. "My parents will be gone until Tuesday, and we'll have my whole place to ourselves. Should we gather some people and have a good time on Friday night?"

"Will there be food?" asked Seth.

"More importantly, will there be booze?" asked Carson, getting to the real questions.

"Booze and everything else you can think of," smirked Santana. "You know damn well that my parents have a fully stocked liquor cabinet. All you have to do is show up. Although, if you want to bring your own refreshment, I'm sure as hell not going to stop you."

"And that's Halloween!" Kurt piped up excitedly. "We can make it a costume party."

Carson smiled inwardly to himself. Of course Kurt would want to make it a costume party and be more excited about that than about the recreational refreshments. His twin never missed an opportunity to dress up.

"Whatever gets your rocks off," said Santana with a shrug. "I'm gonna head to class. I'll see you losers later."

"I'm going to dress as a vampire, I think," Kurt mused, picking up his book bag and looking thoughtful as Santana turned away and headed into the building. "I have that cape in my closet that I've never even used. Carson, you should dress up, too."

"Do I have to?" groaned Carson. "I'm only going for the booze, I really don't need a costume."

"We'll see," chirped Kurt.

"I'll dress up," said Seth with a shrug. "What the hell. Maybe it'll endear me to Quinn Fabray."

"I doubt it," snorted Carson. "Unless maybe you went as Jesus."

"Hmm," said Seth thoughtfully. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Come on, let's get to class and get our exam over with," he sighed, linking his arm through Seth's and leading him away from the dolphin. "I'll see you at lunch, Carson."

"Bye," said Carson, giving them a half-hearted wave as he picked up his own book bag. He sighed and headed in the direction of his first class, not relishing the thought of yet another long and pointless day. It wasn't easy being one of the few people in the entire school with a modicum of intelligence, including the teachers, but he supposed that it was just a cross he was going to have to bear until he was old enough to be granted his freedom.

_Just three more years and you'll be free_, he reminded himself, pushing open the school doors.

It was a long day, certainly, but nothing Carson hadn't been through a million times before. He was grateful when the afternoon finally arrived, though, even though all it meant for him was trudging home to do his homework alone in his room while he waited for Kurt to come back from glee practice. He really worked hard to maintain good grades, although not because anyone particularly cared whether or not he did. He knew his parents didn't give half a shit what his grades were, since they weren't Kurt's. He did it for himself, so that when the glorious day came on which he could leave and go anywhere he wanted, he'd have a foot in the door to a decent university. He wasn't exactly sure yet where that would be, exactly. All he knew was that he wanted his options to be as open as possible.

"Hi, Mom," he said as he let himself into the house. His mother was stretched out on the couch, thumbing through a magazine and sipping lazily on a cup of tea that Carson was all but positive was probably spiked with some kind of alcohol.

"Where's your brother?" she replied, as though he hadn't even spoken.

"On a shuttle to Mars," Carson answered sarcastically, kicking off his shoes and heading into the kitchen to grab an apple.

"Don't be a smartass," she admonished him. "I'm your mother."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. He's at glee club," Carson said, taking a bite of his apple as he climbed upstairs as quickly as possible. The less interaction he had to have with his parents on a typical afternoon, the better.

He stayed in his room all afternoon, diligently finishing every last bit of his homework and then collapsing onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling and reflecting on nothing in particular. At some point he must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew, he was opening his eyes to a pitch black room, and he could hear raised voices coming from downstairs as his parents engaged in yet another one of their epic fights.

_The neighbors must be so entertained_, he thought sarcastically as he listened to his mother screechingly demand to know why his father was so very late getting home. He wondered if she was blind or just stupid.

The careful turning of his doorknob jarred him out of his thoughts, and his room filled with a sliver of light from the hallway as Kurt cautiously peeked his head into the room.

"Carsey?" he whispered, using the nickname that he had used all the time when they were little, but which he very rarely used anymore now that they were teenagers.

"Yeah?" said Carson, glancing over at him. The bridge of his nose hurt from falling asleep in his glasses, and he carefully removed them, setting them on his bedside table and rubbing his nose.

"I, um... I can't sleep," whispered Kurt.

"Neither can half the neighborhood, I'd bet," said Carson as the sound of something heavy hitting the wall downstairs echoed through the house among the yelling. Kurt said nothing, just continued standing in Carson's doorway, hugging his arms around himself and looking at him with silently pleading eyes.

"Ok," Carson sighed, scooting over to make as much room for Kurt as he could and patting the spot beside him. "Come on in here with me."

Kurt smiled in relief, closing the bedroom door and hurrying over to the bed. He climbed on and settled himself close to Carson, his arms around his waist and his head resting on his chest as he breathed in deep.

"You still smell like smoke," he said quietly.

"I know. I'm sorry," replied Carson, settling one arm around Kurt's shoulder. "I fell asleep right after I finished my course work."

"It's ok. I like it," said Kurt. He settled down more, sighing against Carson and giving him a small kiss to the collarbone. "Good night."

Carson leaned his head down to kiss the top of Kurt's forehead and squeezed him protectively close as the voices downstairs escalated louder. "Good night, Kurtsie," he whispered into the dark.

* * *

"So," said Carson as he leaned against the doorway of Kurt's room and looked his twin up and down. "Are you going as a vampire, or a vampire hooker?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" asked Kurt defensively, checking himself out in the mirror and smoothing his hands down the front of the tight, black vest he was wearing over a long sleeved black shirt (which went really well with the _extremely_ tight black pants he was wearing, Carson had to admit). "What's wrong with it?"

"Well, your ass is on full display in those pants, for starters," said Carson. "Not to mention _other _things. God knows how many guys will be all over you dressed like that."

"That's kind of the point," said Kurt, smiling into the mirror as he grabbed his cape and fastened it around himself.

"Really? What would Mom and Dad say if they knew their precious angel was going out dressed like a prostitute vampire so that horny guys could drool over him?" asked Carson.

"Probably that it's somehow your fault," said Kurt. "Besides, they'll never even know. They'll be back and asleep by the time we even get in." He took the small tube of fake blood he'd fashioned out of corn starch and food coloring and dabbed a little onto his finger, which he spread carefully along the corners of his mouth. "There. How's that?" he asked, turning around and smiling at Carson, putting his fake fangs on display. Carson swallowed.

_Ok, is it considered creepy to tell your own twin brother that he looks sexy? Or... what's the protocol here? _he thought, trying his hardest not to stare at Kurt's crotch, which was practically trying to bulge free from the tightness of those damn pants. He did make one hell of a hot vampire, that much was certain.

"You know I I look good, so you might as well just admit it," said Kurt, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows.

"Fine. You look good," admitted Carson, relieved to have that moment of awkwardness over with. "Better than me, anyway." He had borrowed some of Kurt's tight clothes and fashioned himself a ninja costume out of black pants and a black shirt. He carried a black bandana, which he planned to tie over his face when they got to Santana's house.

"Nonsense. You're the hottest ninja ever," crooned Kurt, patting him on the shoulder. "Now come on, I have dance moves to show off."

"How in the hell are you going to dance in that outfit without severely crushing your balls?" asked Carson, allowing himself to be dragged down the stairs and out the door.

"It's a gift," replied Kurt. They hurried down the streets, stopping along the way to pick up Carson's friend from school, Malerie, whom Carson had invited along more out of pity than anything else. Malerie wasn't the brightest or most popular crayon in the box, but she was also the only person, besides Carson himself, who actually seemed to want to be in their morning creative writing class. Even if most (well... all) of her writing was stolen from other sources. He felt a weird kind of kinship with her. So when she had overheard him and Kurt talking about the party at lunch the day before and had inquired about it, Carson had weirdly not had the heart to not invite her.

"This is going to be so much fun," she said excitedly when she opened the door to her house and stepped outside. She wasn't wearing a costume, but she did have her ever-present video camera in one hand and was eagerly panning it from one twin to the other.

"The fuck are you planning to do with that?" asked Carson, pointing to it.

"Um...film things?" she said. "Like I do every day. This is the first party I've ever been invited to, and I want to remember every moment."

Carson wondered if she was still going to feel that way when they got to Santana's house and it was nothing but people drinking, smoking, and grinding on each other.

"Um... great," he said. "Let's go." The three of them made their way down the busy streets toward Santana's neighborhood, which was far more affluent than the twins'. Her father was a doctor, and the Lopez family lived in what might not exactly be called a mansion, but which was certainly larger than any of their other friends' homes. It was perfect for a party. Apparently so, if the loud music Carson could hear all the way down the drive was any indication.

"Hey, bitches," Santana greeted them, ushering them in and balking at Malerie. "The fuck's with the camera?"

"Never mind, just ignore it," said Carson, taking in the sight of Santana's sexy leather cat suit and cat ears headband. "Nice costume."

"Yeah, well. You knoooow," Santana said, slurring her words a little, and it was obvious she was already quite drunk. "Itsh a party."

"Someone please point me in the direction of the alcohol," said Kurt. Santana pointed, and Kurt went off in the correct direction, his cape flying out behind him. Carson really wanted to join him, but he wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to do with Malerie. He had a feeling that drinking wasn't quite her thing.

"Is there booze? Sweet!" Malerie exclaimed just then, hurrying off after Kurt and leaving Carson still in the entryway, feeling confused.

"Ok, maybe drinking _is_ her thing," he mused.

"Wha... what are you sposed to be?" slurred Santana, looking Carson up and down.

"I'm a ninja," answered Carson, rolling his eyes and fastening his bandana to his face. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Not really," said Santana. "I thought you were supposed to be something abstract, like melancholia or whatever. Anyway, it's hot."

"Careful, mate," said Seth, walking up to them and slapping a hand on Carson's shoulder. "Tana's drunk as a skunk and will literally blow anything right now, so watch your back. Or your dick, as the case may be."

"Shut the fuck up," said Santana, punching Seth on the arm.

"Is Quinn here yet?" asked Seth hopefully.

"No, and I doubt she's coming. She has a celibacy club meeting at her house tonight," Santana sorted as Carson quietly made his way through the sea of bodies to the booze table. He poured himself a drink as he watched Malerie down what seemed like her second or third, from the looks of her.

"Greeaaat party," she said with a grin.

"You've been here for five minutes," said Carson.

"And they've been magical!" Malerie crowed, waving her video camera around in one hand. "Where are all the guys?"

"Hitting on my brother, by the looks of it," Carson growled, narrowing his eyes as his attention turned to the Lopez living room, where lots of people were either drinking, smoking, or dancing, and in particular, where Kurt was dancing suggestively to the latest Ke$ha song. He was looking hot as hell in his vampire costume, but what really was catching Carson's attention was the fact that not one, but _two _guys were dancing very, very close to him. Practically grinding up on him.

Well. That wouldn't do. That wouldn't do at _all_. He couldn't explain why, but he suddenly felt a very strong wave of... jealousy? Nah, it couldn't be jealousy. Kurt was his brother, and he just felt protective, that was all.

Whatever it was, it was making him down one more drink and then storm his way over to Kurt, shoving one guy away from him with either hand and settling himself up against him, his front pressed to Kurt's back. He felt Kurt seize up just a little, and then, Carson swore he didn't know what the fuck had come over him, but he was suddenly putting his hands around Kurt's waist and swaying along to the beat of the music.

Well... actually, he was more like grinding, technically... right? No. No, this was just dancing. Just dancing with his brother and letting those other guys know that they couldn't just _do_ that with Kurt, ok? Because Kurt was special.

Just dancing.

And putting his lips close to Kurt's neck was just dancing, too. And so was Kurt pressing back against him as they moved. Just dancing.

"Waaaanky," crooned Santana, raising her drink cup at them and raising her eyebrows suggestively.

_Oh, fuck, I need another drink_, Carson thought, snapping back to himself as the song ended and another began. He quickly let go of Kurt and wandered over to the booze, downing three more drinks in a row and taking a deep breath.

_Calm the fuck down, Carson. Get a damn hold of yourself._

He strode back into the living room, intending to let Kurt know that he was going outside for some air, but he forgot all about that as he watched yet another guy get close to Kurt, grabbing at his waist and pulling him close.

"Hey, cowboy, hands off," protested Kurt, prying the guy's hands off of him and glaring.

"Ah, come on. One dance," the guy insisted.

"I said-"

"He said to back off, asshole, so why don't you go fuck off and leave him alone?" interrupted Carson, giving the guy a shove to the chest with one hand. The guy rolled his eyes in defeat and wandered away, and Carson felt a punch on his arm as he turned to face Kurt.

"Ow! Kurt, what the fuck?" he exclaimed, rubbing his arm and glaring at his twin.

"I can take care of myself, you know," slurred Kurt drunkenly. "I don't need you to do it for me. I'm not a baby."

"Well excuse me," Carson huffed. "So sorry. Next time I'll just let some pervert molest you."

"See that you do," grumbled Kurt, pushing past Carson and heading back toward the alcohol. Carson shook his head. He always forgot how grumpy Kurt got when he was drunk.

He spent the next few hours drinking and staying out of Kurt's way, although he still kept a very close watch on him as he danced his adorable little ass off.

_Stop thinking of his ass as adorable, Carson, Jesus. That's gross._

"Carshun," said Malerie, walking up to him on teetering feet and looking like she was about to fall over. "I gotta go hooome. I don't feel sho good."

_Great_, thought Carson as he reached a hand out to steady her. _She's trashed_.

"How much did you drink?" he asked.

"Not much," Malerie replied with a sloppy smile. "Three... four... maybe eight... I don't know..."

"Christ," murmured Carson. "Hey, Satan, tell Kurt that I'm walking Malerie home, ok?" he said to Santana as she passed by them.

"Whatever," said Santana. Carson carefully led Malerie out of the house, which wasn't quite as easy as it should have been, considering that he wasn't exactly sober himself. It took almost an hour to get her home, her frequent vomit breaks considerably prolonging the trip.

"Here we are. At last," he said with relief when they finally reached her house. "Drink some water, and try to practice holding your liquor for next time. Ok?"

"Kaaaaay," she agreed, holding the strap of her camera tightly in one fist. "I'll see you in s...school... I have to throw up," she said, rushing inside.

_Well, that was eventful_, Carson thought with a sigh. He made his way home, not particularly feeling like going back to the party, and let himself into the empty house. He stripped himself of his ninja costume, put on pajama pants and a T-shirt, and collapsed into bed, sending off a text to Kurt before he fell asleep to remind him to come home before their parents did.

Apparently, Kurt had not gotten the memo, because Carson awoke five hours later to an insistently ringing phone.

"Hello?" he mumbled into it, rubbing his eyes.

"Carson?" Kurt's voice whispered frantically. "I'm just coming home now, and Mom and Dad are just getting in, too. What the fuck do I do? I'm gonna get caught!"

"You're _just_ coming in? Fuck, Kurt, what the hell were you doing all night?"

"Seth got a hold of some stuff, and... ok, that's not the point. The point is, if Mom and Dad see me sneaking in like this, I'm fucking dead!" said Kurt.

"Ok, ok. Keep your pants on," said Carson, choosing to ignore the irony of his word choice. "I'll distract them and text you. Ok?"

"Thank you," breathed Kurt, and Carson hung up, rubbing his pounding head. He hadn't realized how hung over he was until right that moment. He had no time to dwell on that, though. Kurt needed him, and he would have to come through for him.

He quietly made his way down the stairs, peering around every corner to see where his parents were. His mom had collapsed onto the couch, and his father was in the bathroom. Ok. He'd have to just distract his father, then. Sheryl was out cold and wouldn't wake up if a bomb went off in front of her face.

He snuck into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, his eyes scanning the shelves until they settled on a whole carrot. He grabbed it and walked over to the sink with it, quietly inserting it down the sink. He made sure it was down there nice and tight, and then he turned the garbage disposal on, wincing at the loud noise.

_Coast is clear, Kurt_, he dashed off in a text before clearing his throat.

"Daaaaaad!" he called loudly over the whirring of the disposal. "DAD!"

"_WHAT_?" Neal answered irritably, stalking drunkenly into the kitchen and glaring at him. "What is it? Jesus, my head is pounding."

"There's something wrong with the sink," said Carson calmly. "I might have accidentally tried to use the garbage disposal on a carrot."

His father peered down into the sink and turned the disposal switch off, swearing under his breath. "Goddammit, Carson, do you have any idea what the hell this is going to cost to fix? What the fuck is wrong with you? I swear to god, sometimes I wonder what the hell I did to deserve this shit in my life. One kid was enough."

"Sorry, Dad," said Carson in a syrupy sweet voice.

"Get the hell out of here," Neal ordered. "Go back to bed."

"Whatever you say," muttered Carson, silently giving his father the finger on his way out while Neal's back was turned. He made his way back upstairs and peeked his head into Kurt's bedroom.

"You get past Mom?" he asked.

Kurt nodded. "Out cold."

"I know."

"He sounds really mad at you," said Kurt, biting his lip and looking guilty.

Carson shrugged. "No more than usual. He hates me, anyway."

"That's not true, Carson," protested Kurt.

"Yeah, it is," said Carson. "It's really ok. Did you get home alright? No more perverts trying to feel you up or anything?"

"No," said Kurt with a smile.

"Good. Better get into bed before you get caught," said Carson, giving him a smile and preparing to shut the door.

"Carson?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," said Kurt.

"Anything for you, Kurt," said Carson before softly closing the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Oh, wow, let me just say first that we're so happy that so many of you guys are already liking this new fic! We weren't sure how it was going to go over, so thank you so much for letting us know that you like it ^_^ Hopefully we won't let you down.**

**So, here we are with the next chapter, and there's not much to say about it except that we hope you enjoy it. So, let's read!**

"Come on!" exclaimed Carson, sighing in exasperation as he stopped walking and waited for Kurt to catch up with him. "Visiting hours are short, Kurt. And if we don't make the next bus, I won't get to see her again until tomorrow."

"Ok, ok. Keep your balls on. I'm coming," replied Kurt, giving his hair one last pat in the store window he was checking himself out in. Deciding that he looked, as usual, flawless, he hurried to catch up with Carson and gave him an exaggerated pat on the shoulder. "I was just making sure that I looked my absolute best."

"I hate to break this to you, but your hair doesn't look any different now than it looked two minutes ago," Carson grumbled. "Besides, I highly doubt that Grandma cares what your hair looks like."

"Yeah, but some of those cute orderlies might," quipped Kurt, enjoying the slight scowl that crossed his twin's face at the words. "Especially the one with the really nice ass. What was his name? John?"

"It's Sean, and I'm pretty sure he's both married and straight," said Carson. "And even if he wasn't, I would very highly disapprove of you looking at his ass. Or him looking at your... um... hair."

Kurt smiled to himself on the inside as they reached the bus stop, even though on the outside he was rolling his eyes. He actually really liked when Carson went all protective big brother on him, even if he pretended to be annoyed by it most of the time. It was a welcome change, seeing as how, throughout most of their lives, it had usually seemed to fall to Kurt to be the protective one. For two boys raised in the same house by the same parents, they had had significantly different experiences growing up. Kurt had experienced what most people would probably call a golden childhood. He had always been the favored twin, the one who, in the eyes of their parents, could do no wrong. He'd been spoiled and coddled since birth, and had had every type of affection, attention, and luxury showered on him as much as possible. He was always the first to get new clothes and shoes, the one who got the nice school supplies, the one who got the most (and nicest) presents at Christmas and his birthday, and the one whose achievements were bragged about far and wide, particularly by their father.

Carson, on the other hand, had not experienced quite such a nice upbringing. For reasons that Kurt didn't quite understand and wasn't sure that he wanted to, the fact that they had twins instead of just one child was something that seemed to perpetually piss off Neal and Sheryl Phillips, and they made damn sure that Carson never forgot it. Even when they were kids, it had always broken Kurt's heart just a little every time one parent or the other said something horrible, demeaning, or outright cruel to his twin.

"Who the hell did I piss off in my last life to be cursed with you?" their mother would say when four year old Carson had trouble learning to tie his shoes and had to ask for help every time they came undone in public.

"This kid is way more goddamn trouble than he's worth," their father said when the boys' teacher in Year 2 called their parents in for a meeting over the questionable age appropriateness of Carson's history report.

"I would have had that abortion in the nineties, but then I wouldn't have my Kurt," their mother said all the time, even to this very day.

Carson was always the one being yelled at, always the one being punished for something he may or may not have even done, and hardly ever being shown affection. He was the scapegoat who got blamed for every unpleasant thing in their parents' lives, and Kurt honestly could not understand why they treated him that way. Once you managed to hack your way through his tough exterior, Carson was really a sweetheart. Not that he showed that side of himself to anyone very often. The older he got, the more closed-off and defensive he became. Kurt was one of the lucky few who got to see beyond that side of his twin, and he was grateful for it.

Despite the drastically different ways they'd been treated growing up, sibling rivalry had, strangely enough, never really been a big problem. In fact, the twins had always been incredibly close. They played together, told each other everything they would never tell anyone else, and generally looked out for each other. Carson was the tough, protective big brother, and Kurt had always made it his mission to look out for Carson in any way he could. That was one of the places where being the "angelic, innocent" twin who never got in trouble worked in Kurt's favor. He was able to get revenge on anyone who dared to fuck with Carson, and nobody could say a damn thing about it. He'd discovered this in Year 2 when he successfully made Noah Puckerman pay for trying to steal Carson's lunch money by sticking one foot out and tripping him right in front of the playground monitor, who had only peered sternly at Puck over the rim of her glasses and barked at him to be more careful.

And, of course, it went without saying that anyone who messed with Kurt had a very angry Carson on their hands to deal with.

Not that they didn't engage in their fair share of biting sibling banter.

"Finally," Carson mumbled as the bus shuttled up to them and stopped, opening the door for them to get on. "After you," he said, gesturing for Kurt to go first.

"Age before beauty," Kurt quipped, and Carson rolled his eyes as he climbed onto the bus and slumped down into an empty seat.

"Clever one, you are," he muttered. "Clever little shit."

"You'd be lost without me, and you know it," chided Kurt, following him on and plopping down in the seat beside him. "Honestly. Without me, _where_ would you be?"

"An only child?" Carson supplied. "Although, I don't really see how that would benefit me very much. I probably would have been locked in a cupboard under the stairs my whole life, or something."

"Hey, now. Hush," Kurt said, bumping their shoulders together.

"You know it's true," said Carson matter-of-factly. He was beginning to get the fiery glint in his eye that he got whenever they went to visit their grandmother in the assisted living home where she now resided instead of with the Phillips family, where she had lived for several years after her husband had passed away. Unfortunately, the onset of Alzheimer's had caused her to become too much of a burden for Sheryl and Neal to deal with, so off to the home she'd been sent. Both boys had been sad about this, but Kurt knew Carson felt it more. It was understandable, really. Before she'd gotten sick, Grandma had been the only adult in their lives who had treated Carson like a human being deserving of love and affection. She'd loved both boys equally, of course, but she and Carson had always seemed to have an especially close connection. She'd understood him in a way most adults, especially their parents, didn't. Kurt knew how much it hurt him, personally, that she could no longer remember them now. He could only imagine how much it tortured Carson.

They sat in silence throughout the bus ride, Kurt listening to his headphones and Carson staring broodingly out of the window until they reached their stop. Kurt hurried to keep up with Carson as his twin got off the bus and sprinted down the street to the familiar grey brick building that they had visited at least three times a week for the past three years.

"Hi, Julian," Carson greeted the receptionist as they entered. "How is she today?"

"She's having a pretty good day today, actually," the young guy behind the desk replied. "You can go right on in. Hi, Kurt," he added, looking over at Kurt and giving him a flirty smile.

"Hi, honey," said Kurt, smiling and waving and making sure to make his ass wiggle just so as he and Carson headed down the hall toward their grandmother's room.

"Hi, Kuuurt," Carson said, mocking Julian's greeting and scowling. "Honestly."

"He was just flirting," said Kurt.

"He's too old for you," replied Carson.

"You think everybody is too old for me." Kurt couldn't really explain why, even to himself, but he sort of really liked it when Carson got all pissy whenever Kurt and a guy got flirty. It made him feel... something. Something very weird. He had a feeling he probably shouldn't enjoy it so much when his own twin acted like a jealous boyfriend. On the other hand, it was kind of hot.

They reached Grandma's room and Carson pushed the door open, revealing her sitting up in bed and working away steadily at a project with her knitting needles. She looked up at them as they entered, confusion clouding her face.

"What's this?" she asked. "Who are you?" Kurt didn't have to look at Carson's face to know that it had fallen into a look of poorly disguised sadness. Those words felt like a knife in the gut to _Kurt_, no matter how many times he heard them. He couldn't even imagine how they made Carson feel.

"We're... we're, um... visitors," Carson replied, swallowing and pasting a smile on his face.

"Oh!" Grandma exclaimed, smiling and putting her needles down. "Visitors! Well, isn't this nice. I hardly ever get those. Won't you sit down?" she asked, indicating the two chairs beside her bed.

"Thank you," said Kurt, taking Carson by the hand and leading him over to the chairs. They sat down and exchanged a look before turning their attention back to Grandma.

"So," said Carson, clearly trying to sound bright and cheery. "How are you today?"

"Oh, I'm quite lovely, thank you," she replied, smiling at them and holding up her knitting project for them to inspect. "I've been working on this today. It's for one of my grandsons."

"Oh," said Kurt. "That's very nice."

"Yes," she said, still smiling as she looked fondly down on it. "Carson will love it. I hope. He never comes to visit me anymore. He and his brother used to visit me all the time."

There was silence for a minute, and then Carson drew a breath and nodded. "I'm sure he'll love it," he said. "It's very nice."

"You two remind me of them," Grandma said, squinting at the boys. "My grandsons, I mean. Except they're still young. They're not big boys yet, like you. But you do remind me of them. I haven't seen them in a long time. I get worried, you know. Not so much about Kurt, you see. He's a happy kid, gets along with everyone. I worry about Carson more. He tries to be such a tough little guy, but he's such a lonely soul. All that negative energy, you know, it's not good for him. I thank God he has his brother, at least. If I can't be there with him anymore, I'm glad he has Kurt."

Kurt could practically feel Carson breaking down slowly beside him, and he had a feeling that it was only going to be a matter of time before his twin couldn't handle this anymore and had to leave.

He was right. Carson lasted about six more minutes before he politely said his goodbyes to Grandma and excused himself from the room. Kurt watched him go and got up from his own chair, giving Grandma an apologetic smile.

"I should go, too," he said. "I'll see you later."

"Ok," she agreed, going back to her knitting. "Do come again. Oh, and if you happen to see my grandsons, can you tell them to come visit sometime? I really do miss them."

"I'll do that," Kurt croaked, trying not to tear up as he waved goodbye and followed Carson out of the room. He looked down the hallway in both directions, but his twin was nowhere to be found.

"Shit," Kurt cursed, quickly hurrying out of the building and ignoring Julian's shout of "See you next time, Kurt!" He found Carson slumped on the ground on the side of the building, his back against the wall and his arms wrapped around his knees.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking up at Kurt with an embarrassed look. "I just... I can't take much of that. You know?"

"I know," Kurt assured him, sitting down beside him and staring straight ahead. "She just keeps getting worse. At least this was one of her good days."

"Yeah," Carson mumbled, using the toe of his sneaker to push at a small pebble in front of him. "I just... this shit isn't fucking right. She shouldn't be in there. She should be home with us. And Dad is too much of an asshole to understand that. And Mom... that's her own goddamn mother, you know? And she just goes along with whatever _he_ says." He fished a cigarette from the pocket of his hooded sweatshirt and stuck it in his mouth, retrieving a lighter from his other pocket and flicking it. He took a long drag from the cigarette and let the breath out slowly.

"I know," agreed Kurt, wanting to pat Carson's hand or his shoulder, but knowing that his twin was very bristly when he was in this sort of mood and was best left alone until it blew over. "It sucks."

"It _fucking_ sucks," Carson scowled. "It's bullshit, all of it."

"It is," agreed Kurt.

"Dad's a fucker."

Kurt couldn't really disagree with that, either. "Biggest fucker ever."

"Now you're just patronizing me," Carson grumbled, but he was starting to look a little more relaxed.

"I assure you, I'm not," said Kurt.

"Yes you are."

"Fine, I am."

"Shithead."

"Tosser."

"And Julian the receptionist _is_ too old for you," Carson said, swiftly changing the subject in a way that Kurt knew meant he didn't want to talk about it anymore. "He just wants in your pants.

"Mmm. I know," said Kurt, relieved that the edge had been taken off, even if he knew perfectly well that his twin was only bottling up more emotions inside to add to what was undoubtedly quite a collection. "And how do you know that I don't want him in my pants?"

"Over my dead body," Carson declared. "He'll keep his hands to himself and he'll like it."

"Whatever you say, big brother," said Kurt coolly, getting up and offering his hand to Carson. "Come on. Up you go. We've got stuff to do."

"Oh?" asked Carson. "And what, pray tell, would this "stuff" entail?"

"I thought we'd do a bit of shopping," said Kurt cheekily, dragging Carson down the street.

"Ugh, you know I hate that," Carson complained, dragging his feet.

"Not shopping," Kurt clarified, rolling his eyes and looking back at his twin. "I meant... you know. _Shopping. _The kind that always cheers you up." He looked at Carson with his eyebrow raised in suggestion, and Carson caught on quickly.

"Oooh," he said, nodding and smiling. "Right. _Shopping_. Where to, then?" Kurt grinned and gripped his hand tightly, leading him down the street and past many shops. None of those shops would do. The twins never made it a habit to shoplift in the same place too often, and besides, there was a very lovely scarf Kurt had had his eye on for a while, now. He wanted to at least visit it.

"This place," he declared when they reached their destination, a mid-sized but suitably fancy department store.

"New target," mused Carson, taking it in and nodding in approval. "Fun. What do we know about security procedures in this place?"

"Nothing," said Kurt with a shrug. "But I guess we'll learn. You first, or me?"

"Me," Carson said quickly. "I need a rush like you don't even fucking know. I'll wait out here for a minute. You go in there and work your magic."

Kurt nodded. He held his head high and made his way confidently inside the store, heading first for the display of men's scarves in the front and silently drooling over the cerulean blue one he had his eye on for a moment. He'd make it his another day, when it was his turn. For now, though, he needed to scope out a distraction. Fortunately, there was only a handful of browsing customers and one very bored looking salesgirl on the floor. Piece of cake.

"Can I help you find something?" she asked, perking up a little when she saw Kurt and getting the tell-tale "Oh my god, super hot guy!" gleam in her eye that Kurt was used to inciting in people of all genders.

"I sure hope so, honey," Kurt replied, pouring on the charm and giving her his most winning grin as he saw Carson casually strolling his way in. "You see, I'm on the hunt for a new belt to go with these pants," he continued, trailing a hand lightly down his torso until it reached the top of his pants and began toying with his belt. He sighed dramatically and hung his head. "I just don't think that this one goes very well. Do you?" he asked.

The salesgirl's gaze followed Kurt's hand, and she swallowed as she looked upon the area it was indicating, her cheeks flushing a little. "Um... well, it's a very... you have a nice... it's a lovely belt," she stammered out.

"Hmm," murmured Kurt thoughtfully. "I suppose it is. I mean, it's _ok_. I'm just not sure it's making the statement I want it to make."

"Well, what statement _do_ you want it to be making?" the girl asked, clearly trying to avert her eyes from Kurt's pants and failing spectacularly, much to Kurt's amusement.

"Mostly just "Nice belt," answered Kurt. "Perhaps it's the color that's the problem. Maybe if it was... well... like this color, for instance," he said, pointing down at the girl's wrist and indicating the dark blue rubber bracelet she wore. "May I?" he asked.

"Yes. Please," the girl replied, offering Kurt her hand. Kurt took it, hiding an amused smile as he pretended to inspect the bracelet.

"You know?" he said after a moment, making sure to give the girl's wrist a soft stroke with his thumb as he let go of it. "I think that's just the color I'm looking for. How do you think it would look in place of this?" he asked, pointing at his belt and jutting his hips out a little to accentuate his body ever so slightly."

"Hot," breathed the girl.

"That's what I figured," said Kurt with a nod. "Thank you, miss. You've saved my life."

"You're.. welcome?" she replied, looking dazed as Kurt blew her a kiss and sauntered out of the store, making sure to walk in just the right way so that his ass looked its best. _Nothing wrong with giving her a little show on my way out, is there?_

He leaned up against the outside of the building, examining his nails and looking straight ahead when Carson parked himself next to him, looking pleased with himself.

"Mission accomplished?" asked Kurt casually.

"Mission accomplished," replied Carson.

"What'd you get?"

"I'll show you in a minute," said Carson. They walked back toward the bus stop, and only after they'd reached it did Carson finally reach into his bag, retrieving something from it and proudly presenting it to Kurt.

"Carson!" Kurt gasped when he saw what it was. It was his scarf, the exact one he'd had his eye on and had been planning to get for himself when he had the opportunity.

"I saw you looking at it," Carson said. "It's pretty. You know... for a stupid scarf. It kind of matches your eyes."

Kurt looked at him and smiled, stroking the fabric of the scarf gently with his fingers. "Thank you," he said, leaning forward to plant a gentle kiss on Carson's cheek. He could have sworn his twin's cheeks flushed a bright pink as he did so, but then again, he realized, it could have just been the cold air.

"Yeah, well... " said Carson, clearing his throat. "It was nothing. Hey, bus is here," he said, changing the subject quickly. "Beauty before age," he added, gesturing for Kurt to go first. This time, Kurt did.

* * *

Autumn continued to drag on and on, and Kurt grew more and more disillusioned with school. Although he was, by all accounts, a bright student, he just found school in general very dull. He wasn't at all like Carson, who, even though he bitched plenty about the less than intelligent specimens he was forced to attend school _with_, still enjoyed most of his classes, particularly those which involved a lot of writing. The only class he despised, which Kurt could sympathize with entirely, was any and all types of mathematics.

Both twins hated math with an equal passion, and it was quite torturous to be forced to sit in class day after day, solving problems that just seemed to be a stupid waste of time. Really, who cared what x equaled? Kurt wasn't bad at math, but he didn't see why the hell he needed to know any of that. He highly doubted that when he made it to the big time, whether that be in the fashion industry or the stage, that he would ever be forced to tell anyone what x equals.

"Well, actually," Carson had told him on more than one occasion, "You could probably make good use of that knowledge in the fashion world. Like, for measuring and shit. I don't know. It could be useful. All I know is, it's about as useful as tits on a broom in the journalism world."

"It's still one hell of a bullshit class," Kurt always retorted with a grumble.

He was sitting at his desk one November afternoon, excruciatingly bored and doodling various outfit designs in his notebook instead of actually taking notes, thinking about how much he would rather have been literally anywhere else. His eye caught Carson's from across the aisle, and they smirked at each other while Ms. Ellis droned on and on about formulas and rules.

"Would anybody like to take a whack at the problem on the board?" she asked, her eyes scanning the room for volunteers.

"I will," spoke up Seth Parker, getting up from his seat and shuffling quickly up to the board. Kurt went back to his doodles. His friend was a classic overachiever, which came in handy sometimes whenever Kurt needed help with his course work and Carson was just as confused as he was. Seth could stand there and show off for a bit, and hopefully that would spare anyone else (or, more specifically, Kurt) from having to go up there.

He tuned everything out, focusing intently on an outfit he was creating in his mind that beautifully incorporated the scarf Carson had stolen for him. He was so lost in his own little world that the sound of Ms. Ellis screeching "Mr. Phillips!" actually startled him. He looked up, gulping when he realized that everybody was suddenly looking at him.

"Mr. Phillips!" barked Ms. Ellis again.

"Yes?" Kurt asked. The class tittered.

"Since you seem to find the subject matter so very dull, would you care to come up to the board and demonstrate the vast knowledge you seem to no doubt possess?" she asked, holding out a dry erase marker like it was some kind of offering.

Kurt sighed and shrugged. "Whatever," he said, closing his notebook and sauntering up to the board. _At least I look hot today_, he thought, taking the time to wiggle his hips in the most tantalizing way he knew how. He was wearing new jeans today, and they were very, _very_ tight due to not quite being broken in. His internal radar assured him that there were at least a couple of closet cases in that class, and he figured he might as well give them some free entertainment.

"Solve the problem, please, Mr. Phillips," ordered Ms. Ellis, handing him the dry erase marker and leaning back against her desk with her arms folded. Kurt resisted the urge to roll his eyes and took the marker, peering at the problem he was meant to be solving. _Well. This isn't too evil_, he thought with relief as he set to work solving it. He realized an error and went to erase it, dropping the marker on the floor in the process as several giggles erupted behind him.

_Oh, toss off_, he thought, bending down to pick up the dropped instrument. He could definitely feel how tight his new pants were as he did so. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who noticed. When he stood back up with his marker, he realized that almost everyone was looking at him again, and that most of them were looking either awed or flushed.

_Power of the pants_, he thought triumphantly, his gaze settling on Carson. His twin was definitely blushing as plain as day, and Kurt felt his heart skip a beat when he realized that even his own brother had been staring at his ass. He thought he should probably be weirded out by this, but he wasn't. It was actually sort of empowering, really, knowing that he had that kind of effect on guys. Even... well. Related guys.

"Uh, you got the ass... erm... _answer_... correct," Ms. Ellis stammered as Kurt finished the last few bits of the problem and capped the marker. He kept his eyes on Carson and noticed a scowl pass his twin's face as their teacher spoke. _Oh, Carson, honey._

He walked back to his seat, making extra sure to walk as seductively as he was able (which was pretty good for a complete virgin, he thought). He caught Carson's eye and raised one eyebrow at him, causing Carson to blush more and suddenly become very interested in his own notebook.

_Hmm,_ Kurt thought, going back to his doodles. _Interesting. What's going on in that brain of yours, Carsey? _More importantly, he thought, why was it not freaking him out in the slightest that his own twin had been checking him out? Not that _he_ hadn't checked out Carson's ass once or twice. Or, you know... a lot. Those jeans he wore hugged his ass just right, and Kurt was only _human_, after all.

What did it all mean?

He decided to have some fun with it the next day during English. The lights had been turned off and the class was meant to be watching a film adaptation of _Romeo and Juliet, _which Kurt thought was a complete waste of time, considering that it was not the Leonardo DiCaprio version. He took the opportunity to join Carson in the back of the room, where his twin had laid claim to one of the extra swivel chairs and was casually playing with his phone, clearly intent on not paying attention to the film.

"Got a free lap?" asked Kurt, and he saw Carson's shoulders tense up just a little before his twin put the phone away and looked up at him, nodding.

"Yeah," he replied, patting his lap and holding his arms out. "Come on, then." Kurt smiled and settled himself down into Carson's lap, relishing the feel of his twin's arms holding him firmly around the waist. _Well, that shouldn't feel as good as it does, should it?_

"Comfy?" asked Carson, whispering in his ear. Kurt nodded.

"Yeah," he said, wiggling around a bit. Carson took in a sharp breath.

"You ok?" asked Kurt.

"Fine," said Carson. "Watch the movie."

Kurt actually did try to watch the movie, but something much more interesting was keeping his mind off of it. Every time he moved, even a little bit, he could feel Carson tensing up under him. Only slightly, but it was definitely there. He wiggled a bit more, and with more deliberate movement, just to make sure that it wasn't his imagination.

And then he felt something happening in Carson's lap that made his whole face flush what he could only imagine was probably a very deep shade of scarlet. And from the feel of his twin's body, Carson was about two seconds away from fainting right there in the chair.

_Oh my Christ. OH MY FUCK. Is he... he's... oh god, he's getting a stiffy. What do I do? WHAT THE HELL DO I DO? Do I... should I get off his lap? I... but... well, that would embarrass him more, wouldn't it? I... actually, it feels really nice... damn it, Kurt, no. That shit is wrong._

_But it DOES feel nice, though..._

He wiggled again without really meaning to, which only served to make the bulge under his ass bigger and Carson's breathing shallower. He smiled to himself and wiggled again, moving his hips in a circle and grinding them down ever so slightly. Carson inhaled sharply and actually tried shifting, presumably to get Kurt's ass off of his erection, but that was much easier said than done.

"Um.. shit... Kurt.." Carson whispered as Kurt ground down again. "What the hell?"

"I'm sorry," Kurt replied, playing innocent. "I didn't realize Little Carson was such an eager little fellow."

"Oh my _GOD_, Kurt, you're my brother," Carson hissed as quietly as possible.

"I don't think Mr. Happy realizes that," quipped Kurt.

"Kurt!"

"Ok, ok," sighed Kurt. He stopped circling his hips, and Carson gently removed him from his lap and stood up from the chair. "I'm sorry," he said apologetically, even though he was unable to hold in his smile. "I just... I felt it _right there_, and I couldn't resist screwing with you a little."

"And I promise you that you'll pay dearly for this, but right now I need to visit the loo," mumbled Carson, giving Kurt a half hearted punch on the shoulder and quietly sneaking out of the classroom. Kurt slumped down in the abandoned chair and contemplated what the hell had just happened. Had he really just ground his ass down on his own brother's dick?

Well, yeah. Yeah, he had. But why? And why had he enjoyed it so much?

_And what is he doing in the bathroom right now?_ Kurt wondered, a shiver running down his spine as he thought of the possibilities before shaking himself out of that mindset. _Jesus, I need help._

Needless to say, both boys silently vowed never to speak of the incident again.

* * *

Christmas came without much fanfare, as was often the case in the Phillips family now that the boys were no longer children. Although, even then, it had usually been more like an endless parade of guilt for Kurt as he was showered with presents while Carson received cheaper, shoddier versions of them at best and token trinkets at worst. That had finally come to an end when Kurt couldn't stand it anymore and had started sneaking under the tree each Christmas Eve, carefully replacing the name tags on half of his own presents with ones that bore Carson's name. He'd never gotten in trouble for it, probably because Grandma was usually there with them on Christmas Day, but from then on, the presents had started getting a bit more equal.

This Christmas had been pretty typical. Everyone had exchanged presents in the morning, followed by the traditional loud fight between their parents over a trivial matter while the boys escaped upstairs to give each other their own gifts. Kurt had given Carson a fancy fountain pen filled with blue ink and inscribed with his initials, and Carson had presented Kurt with a gorgeous brooch in the shape of a cat.

"It kind of reminded me of you," said Carson as Kurt pinned the brooch to his shirt.

"I remind you of a cat?" asked Kurt, giving him an amused smile.

"Very much so."

"Thanks?"

"Any time."

Christmas afternoon was spent with the family (minus Neal, who couldn't have cared less) making the trek to the assisted living home to pay Grandma a visit. Kurt honestly worried for Carson, who had a hard enough time dealing with these visits without the added element of their mother being there with them. It was easy enough to see that his twin was going to reach a breaking point sooner than normal. Sure enough, not even five minutes into the visit, Carson's face was a proverbial storm cloud.

"How can you stand to see her in there?" Carson snapped at Sheryl when they had said their goodbyes and left, walking back out onto the cold and snowy street.

"Hey, it's not any easier for me than it is for you," Sheryl snapped back. "But there's not much I can do about it, is there?"

"That's bullshit," retorted Carson. "She belongs at home, and if you really gave a shit, you'd realize that and tell _him_ to take a hike."

"You watch your mouth, young man," said their mother angrily. "He's your father."

"Yeah, whatever the hell that means," muttered Carson. "There was nothing wrong with having her at home."

"Listen, I have a hard enough time dealing with _you_ at home, let alone her, too," Sheryl snapped. "You know what, I'm going home. Or to a bar. I need a drink. I'll see you at home later," she said, addressing the last sentence to Kurt before hurrying away from them down the street. The boys stood there in the middle of the sidewalk, Carson glaring angrily into space and Kurt feeling the familiar tightness in his stomach he always felt whenever members of his family were at each other's throats. Which was practically always.

"I guess it's a traditional Phillips family Christmas, then, hmm?" said Kurt after a moment, trying to diffuse the tension.

"I hate them," muttered Carson, bristling when Kurt tentatively tried to give him a comforting pat on the shoulder.

"I know," said Kurt sympathetically.

"Bullshit. It's all such fucking bullshit, Kurt."

"I know," Kurt said again. He took Carson's hand in his, and Carson eventually relaxed enough to grip it back. "Come on. Let's go find something to do and salvage the rest of Christmas, shall we?"

"Let's find a party," said Carson. "Sheryl's not the only one who needs to get hammered right about now."

Kurt smiled. That was the Carson he knew and loved.

Loved in an entirely brotherly way, obviously.


	3. Chapter 3

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey, guys! I apologize for the lateness of this chapter, but there's been a nasty cold going around. -_- Anyway, here we go with the next chapter, and we hope you like it ^_^ And, as always, we love you all and your reviews make us smile. Like, big, BIG smiles. Like this: ^_^**

**Let's read.**

_So what if I think he's beautiful?_ thought Carson as he and Santana stood in an alcove outside the school one cold, February morning. They were making use of the time before class started to unload a bit of the good quality weed Carson had gotten his hands on earlier in the week. Or, at least, they were supposed to be. Carson was having a hard time concentrating on the task at hand. All he could think about was Kurt. Which, in a nutshell, was sort of his whole problem lately.

Ever since he'd been confronted with a surprise erection in English class, courtesy of Kurt's ass, he'd been struggling with so many confusing feelings. He'd actually needed to jerk off in the bathroom that day, and he had felt weird as hell about it. On one hand, well... he'd had a boner, and he needed to do something about it. And on the other hand, Kurt was _his fucking brother_. The fact that he was even thinking about him in that way was making him feel like a sleazy pervert.

But, like it or not, it just kept on happening. No matter how hard he tried to fight it, Carson found himself spending more and more chunks of every day just thinking about Kurt (and Kurt's ass in tight jeans, mostly). Thankfully, he'd managed, somehow, not to incorporate Kurt into any more of his masturbatory fantasies. So far.

It wasn't even just that, though. That wasn't all that was bugging him. There was also the fact that he just thought about _Kurt_ all the time in general. Just everything about him. Like how adorable he was when he dressed for a night out and did that thing where he checked out his own ass in the mirror. Or that cute little way he squinted his eyes and wrinkled up his nose when he couldn't quite believe what he had just seen or heard. Or the way he always smelled like watermelon lotion, and how that lotion made his hands unbelievably soft and silky. Or how, even though Carson would rather die than ever admit this to anyone, the way his stomach turned into a gaggle of butterflies every time Kurt touched his hand or placed his arm around him, pulling him close in a way that was meant to be protective and brotherly.

That last part was what was bothering Carson the most. Because he wasn't sure that it felt as brotherly to him as it did to Kurt.

_As if I wasn't a fucked up enough person, now I'm developing a fucking crush on my brother_, he thought, frowning as he collected the money from a customer and Santana handed her a small bag. _Just fucking great._

"What's wrong with you today?" asked Santana, turning to frown at him as their customer shoved her purchase in her pocket and disappeared into the building.

"Nothing's wrong," Carson said quickly. "It's just early."

"Well, you need to snap the fuck out of it," replied Santana, annoyed. "That's the third time I've had to prompt you to take the money while you just stand there brooding like a freak. Jesus."

"_Sorry_," Carson snapped. "You don't have to be such a bitch about it." He saw a pair of teachers walking in their direction and leaned casually up against the wall, Santana following suit.

"Frankly, you've been like this a lot since Christmas, and it's both amusing and irritating," Santana continued. "What's the matter? Thinking about how much you want to bone your brother, or what?"

Carson went rigid, his heart thumping inside his chest as he felt the tell-tale heat in his cheeks that meant he was blushing. "Santana, what the fuck?" he hissed, desperately trying to appear normal and unruffled.

"So you _are_ thinking about Kurt, then," she said matter of factly as she casually examined her nails. "I figured as much."

Carson blushed even more, feeling the heat spreading down his entire body as his brain panicked and worked overtime trying to figure out how in the hell she even knew that. He opened his mouth, ready to tell her she was wrong and to shove off, but somehow, he couldn't force words to come out. He just stood there, gaping like a complete idiot, while Santana smiled to herself.

"What the _fuck_?" he said again when he could finally force his mouth to form words. "I am _not_!"

Santana snorted, smiling her "Oh, you poor fool" smile and looking over at him with one raised eyebrow. "I think you are, and if I'm wrong I'll promise to give up smoking and go with my mother to church regularly for a month. But I'm pretty sure I'm right, so I am in no way worried about having to go through _that_ torture."

Carson glared at her, knowing by the smug look on her face that he was caught, and that she knew he knew it. "Piss off."

"Hey, don't be a tit to me just because you want to screw your own twin," said Santana. "That's not _my_ fault, V.C. Andrews."

Carson crossed his arms and dug into the dirt on the ground with the toe of his sneaker. "I hate you," he muttered.

"No, you don't. You're just an angry asshole," said Santana with a shrug.

"How the fuck did you even know?" he asked her irritably.

"I'm psychic," replied Santana.

"No, I mean really, _how_ did you know?" snapped Carson.

Santana snorted again. "Please. You couldn't be more obvious about it if you went around with a neon sign above your head that said "Place Kurt Here" with an arrow pointing to your dick. Did you know that your eyes automatically fix themselves right on Kurt's ass the second you think no one is looking? Because they do."

Carson just glared straight ahead, trying his best to retain what little composure he could. "No, they don't," he said weakly.

"Oh, honey," said Santana, patting him on the shoulder. "Yes, they do. You want to fuck him so bad. But don't worry, I'm not going to say anything to anyone. Yet. I'm just going to _really_ enjoy making fun of you for this until the very end of time. Ok?"

Carson gathered up his bag and opened up his wallet, noticing that there was way more money in there than there should have been. _Kurt must have slipped me money again. I wish he wouldn't do that. It makes me feel like some kind of charity case. _He shoved Santana's share of the pot money into her hand, giving her his best bitch glare (which, under the circumstances, probably wasn't very good). "Just shut up and mind your own damn business," he snapped, leaving her outside as he headed into the building. His heart was still racing, and he was still flushing with embarrassment. He needed to calm down.

_Fuck what Santana thinks, anyway_, he thought bitterly as he made his way down the corridors, which were still relatively empty, since classes didn't begin for another thirty minutes. _I do NOT want to fuck Kurt._

Except, he realized as he thought back to all the times in the past two months in which he'd come dangerously close to putting Kurt in a starring role in all the fantasies that raced through his brain while he took care of business, it kind of seemed like he did.

_Goddamn it._

He glanced down at his watch, realizing that Kurt had about fifteen minutes left of glee rehearsal before he could meet up with him. He debated going to their spot to wait for him, but something inside urged him to head in the direction of the auditorium instead. He could sit in on the rest of rehearsal, and then he and Kurt could head for their spot together.

_Besides_, he thought happily, _I can prove to myself that I'm NOT always staring at Kurt's ass. I bet I don't even stare at it once while I'm in there._

He quietly pushed the door to the auditorium open, sneaking into a seat in the back row and staring up at the stage, where Kurt and most of the club were arranged in a circle around Rachel Berry, as though it were some kind of Satanic cult meeting and Rachel was the sacrifice. _Not a bad idea_, he thought, smiling to himself at the thought of Rachel being tossed into a giant wicker man and burned alive.

_I'm kind of evil, and I'm ok with this._

"From the top," their instructor called out from his seat in the middle of the audience, and Rachel started singing while everyone else provided a bevy of _ooohs_ and _aaaahs_. Carson frowned and crossed his arms.

_This is such bullshit. Kurt should be singing lead on this song. He should be singing lead on every song. Have they ever heard him sing? He sings like an angel. _He watched as everybody paired off into boy/girl combinations to perform a complicated looking dance routine, frowning at the way Kurt effortlessly picked up his partner around the waist to twirl her in time to the music. He wished, for a brief second, that he could be in the girl's place, but he quickly shook himself out of it.

_You are NOT jealous, Carson. He's your brother. And besides, she's a girl, so you literally have nothing to be jealous of. Except for the fact that his hands are on her waist right now, and that could totally be YOUR waist. Wait... no. That's wrong, because you shouldn't want that, because he's your BROTHER. In no way are you jealous of that girl. Nope. _

_Kurt's ass looks amazing in those white pants, though. They must be his new ones. I can see the outline perfectly, and... oh, FUCK. Santana's right. She's completely fucking right. I really DO stare at his ass all the time, don't I? _He thanked his lucky stars that there wasn't anyone around to witness the furious blush that he could feel spreading across his face as he quickly averted his eyes away from Kurt.

The song ended at last, and everyone was dismissed. Carson stood up and picked up his bag, frowning as he watched a guy pat Kurt on the shoulder.

"Good job today, Kurt," said the guy.

"Thank you, Scott," Kurt replied, giving him a flirty smile, and Carson frowned harder. _Ok, maybe THIS is jealousy. Just a little bit. No, you know what? Fuck that. I'm NOT jealous. I'm not. Guys can flirt with Kurt, I don't care._

Still, he was briskly walking toward the stage, looping his arm through Kurt's when he reached him and giving Scott a sarcastic smile mixed with a glare. "Sorry to interrupt. Great rehearsal. Now Kurt and I have to go. Bye," he said, leading Kurt off the stage and out of the auditorium.

"The hell, Carson?" Kurt said indignantly, shrugging his arm free as they walked down the hallway. "That was rude."

"Sorry," said Carson. "It's sort of a reflex when I see guys hitting on you."

"Yes, well, the next time you get a reflex, kindly tell it to piss off and remind it that you don't own me, and that I can flirt with all the guys I damn well choose to," snapped Kurt. "Are we clear?"

"Crystal," Carson replied, recognizing the tone of voice that meant he should probably back off sooner rather than later.

"Good," said Kurt, looping his arm back through Carson's. "Just checking."

School sucked, as usual, but got slightly more interesting just before lunch, when Carson was sitting in his science class, bored out of his skull. There was a knock on the door, and his teacher paused in her lecture to open it, revealing Malerie holding a handful of pink and white carnations.

"Valentine carnation delivery, Mrs. Freeling," she announced with a smile, and the teacher nodded and waved her in. Carson had completely forgotten that it was Valentine's Day. Every year, the school held a fundraiser in which they sold carnations, which people bought to have delivered to their crushes, significant others, and/or stalking victims during school on Valentine's Day. Naturally, Carson thought the whole thing was stupid. It was always annoying as hell seeing people (usually girls) walking around with handfuls of flowers and giggling over them like they were gold nuggets. Not to mention that Valentine's Day itself was pretty stupid. In Carson's opinion, it was nothing but an excuse for stores to jack up the prices of chocolate and cards, and for people to obsess over having or not having a significant other when they could be putting their energies to good use.

So, other than to smile and wave at Malerie as she entered the room, he didn't pay a speck of attention to the flower delivery going on around him, preferring to concentrate on copying the notes from the whiteboard instead. When Malerie paused at his desk and set down two flowers, he at first thought she had made a mistake.

"Those aren't mine, Malerie," he whispered, not even glancing at them.

"Yes, they are," she insisted, picking up one flower and pointing out the attached label for Carson to read. "See?"

Carson squinted at the label, surprised to see that Malerie was right. "To Carson, from Rachel Berry," was printed neatly on it, and he rolled his eyes as Malerie set it back down on his desk and continued her deliveries. He curiously checked the label of the other flower, expecting to see another one from Rachel. Instead, he widened his eyes in shock when he read "To Carson, from a secret admirer."

_Secret admirer? What the actual fucking fuck?_ he thought, his mind racing as he tried to hide the label from anyone else's view. _It's not Rachel, so who the fuck is it? Santana playing the world's lamest practical joke? Malerie, maybe? She's always looking at me weird in Creative Writing, maybe it's her. Or maybe it's not even a girl. It could be a guy too, couldn't it? Well, shit, it could be anybody. What do I do? I don't want to be seen holding this thing around school. What if he or she is watching me? I'm so fucking creeped out right now._

The bell rang shortly after Malerie had left, and Carson decided to just stash the flowers in his locker as soon as possible before he met up with Kurt in the cafeteria for lunch. He practically flew down the halls, breathlessly reaching his locker in under two minutes even though it was all the way across the building. Unfortunately, Kurt was already standing there, waiting for him. He was proudly holding a bouquet of at least a dozen carnations and humming a tune under his breath.

_Great. He's going to make fun of me relentlessly for this._ Carson sighed and fruitlessly tried to hide the flowers behind his back.

"What are those?" Kurt asked, his eyes zeroing in on the flowers as he raised an eyebrow at Carson.

"Carnations," Carson mumbled, quickly turning the combination on his lock.

"For you?" Kurt asked. "Are you sure they weren't mislabeled ones for me that got delivered to you by mistake?"

"Fuck you," said Carson, rolling his eyes. "Yes, as a matter of fact, they _are_ for me. Both of them."

Kurt grinned, reaching for the flowers and plucking them out of Carson's hand before Carson could stop him. "I see Rachel's continuing her crusade for your heart," he said, snickering down at the label of the first flower.

"Gag me," Carson muttered, waiting for the blow he was expecting to come when Kurt saw the second one.

"Secret admirer, hmm?" said Kurt in a casual tone. "That's adorable. Who do you think it is?"

"Adorable?" Carson exclaimed incredulously. "It's creepy. It means someone is going around watching me and shit, and probably jerking off to thoughts of me. Or whatever the girl version of jerking off is."

Kurt snorted. "Oh, honey."

"Don't "Oh, honey" me," Carson whined.

"It's cute," said Kurt.

"It's _weird."_

_"_Well, whoever they are, they're probably just too shy to say anything to you," said Kurt. "You know. For any number of possible reasons. This is probably just their own little way of letting you know somehow that they like you, even if you don't know who they are."

"Yeah, let's just stop talking," said Carson, grabbing the flowers back from Kurt and shoving them in his locker. "And let's go eat. I'm starving."

* * *

The gift from his secret admirer, which Carson had been afraid would trigger a barrage of love notes in his locker or something equally as horrifying, turned out to be a non-event. For the next few weeks, he heard absolutely nothing else from the alleged admirer. He figured maybe it really had been Rachel, perhaps sending out the "secret admirer" one before getting a sudden bout of courage and sending one out with her actual name on it, and both had been delivered to him. It made logical sense, he guessed.

So he went back to worrying about his ever-increasing and disturbingly inappropriate feelings for Kurt, which were really starting to eat him up inside. He gave up counting how many times a day he found himself either staring at Kurt's ass or, more often than not, staring intently at his face when Kurt wasn't looking, memorizing every curve and contour and marveling that someone could actually be that beautiful. He supposed that he should feel kind of stupid doing that. After all, he and Kurt did, technically, have the same face. Except, no, they really didn't. When Carson looked in the mirror, he saw nothing but emptiness. It was the hollow, hardened face of someone who had given up on enjoying life early and who had just about run out of fucks to give. It wasn't like that when he looked at Kurt's face. Kurt's face was glowing and beautiful and vibrant. His blue eyes sparkled in a way that Carson's didn't, and he had a certain aura about him that just made you feel at peace when you looked at him.

More importantly, Carson realized, looking at Kurt actually made him _feel_. He generally walked around feeling so devoid of joy, not caring about anything or anyone except in the most superficial of ways. But he actually felt things whenever he was with Kurt. Pleasant things. It kind of scared him, actually, and yet, at the same time, it was intoxicating. It made him feel like a normal human being for about five seconds, and then he would always remember that it was his brother he was feeling these romantic things for, and he would go back to trying to push them aside. Not that it worked very well.

He let himself into the house one cold afternoon in early March, already in a terrible mood. It had been a very long day at school, and to top it off, it had not been one of Grandma's better days. She had frowned almost immediately upon Carson's arrival in her room, snapping at him to get out immediately. It had broken his heart, but he had obeyed as quickly as possible and then took his time trudging home, kicking rocks the entire way as he worked his way through two cigarettes. Now he was thoroughly exhausted and ready to just sleep the rest of his afternoon away, homework be damned.

His plans for the afternoon were cut short, however, when he walked through the living room and found one of the most gorgeous sights he had ever seen in his entire life. It was Kurt, clad in his tight yoga pants and an off the shoulder sweater, very intently concentrating on what looked like part of a dance routine while an upbeat song blared out from the speakers of the boombox on the coffee table. Carson had no idea what was going on, but he knew that he liked it very, very, _very_ much. Especially the way that Kurt's pants left little to nothing to the imagination. He could literally see every curve and every bounce of his twin's ass whenever Kurt thrust his hips out and swiveled them around like some kind of porn star.

"Enjoying the view?" asked Kurt breathlessly in mid-move, his routine not wavering in the slightest even as he glanced over at Carson with a smirk.

"No," Carson said quickly. "I mean, yes... I mean... your dancing is, you know... cool, and everything, but, I wasn't..."

"Checking out my ass? Mmm-hmm," said Kurt, punctuating his sentence with a particularly hard thrust of his hips. "Sure."

"I _wasn't," _Carson insisted, feeling himself blushing. _Goddamn it._

"I was just practicing something for glee," Kurt said by way of explanation as he swiveled his hips again in time to the music.

"What the hell are you people doing in that club that requires dancing like _that_?" asked Carson, horrified by the thought of so many people watching his brother dance like that and getting any ideas.

"It's just a number for the assembly in two weeks," replied Kurt casually. "Nothing major."

"So, in other words, the entire school is going to be watching you dance around like... like..." Carson stammered, unsure how to finish that sentence.

"Like a hot stripper who owns the stage like a bitch, yes," said Kurt, as if they were discussing the weather. "You should come dance with me."

"In front of the entire school? No, thanks. I'd rather die," said Carson.

"Not _then, _idiot. I meant right now," said Kurt, rolling his eyes. "I could use a partner to practice on."

Carson felt his pants get just a little bit tighter at the prospect of being that close to Kurt's gyrating hips, but he vigorously shook his head. "I... I don't know how to dance or anything."

"So what?" asked Kurt, stopping his dancing and breathing hard as he looked over at Carson. "You don't have to know how. I'll lead, you follow. Come on, it'll be fun."

Carson bit his lip, shaking his head again. "No, I'll pass."

Kurt pouted, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth and putting on the pleading face that he knew damn well Carson had very little willpower to resist. "Come oooon. Please? Just through the rest of this number? You know you want to."

Carson sighed. He knew that he was going to end up regretting this, but he set his school bag down and crossed the living room over to Kurt. "Fine. But if you breathe a word of this to anyone, I'll smother you in your sleep."

"You're cute. No, you won't," said Kurt happily, grabbing Carson's hand and placing him where he wanted him. Which, as it turned out, was right in front of him, with Kurt's chest pressed up against his back. _Oh, sweet Jesus_, Carson thought, forgetting how exhausted he had been a moment earlier and panicking just a little as his jeans grew a bit tighter.

"Ok, now I'm gonna dance, and you just try to do what I do," said Kurt.

"Easy for you to say," mumbled Carson as Kurt pressed the repeat button on the boombox and placed his hands firmly around his waist. _Oh god, please keep your hands there. Preferably forever. Please. _"You actually know what you're doing."

"It's really not that hard," said Kurt, and he started his dance routine all over again, nearly making Carson moan out loud when he thrust his hips directly into his ass.

"Do what I do," Kurt whispered in his ear, and he turned Carson around so that they were facing each other. "Like this," he said, demonstrating a perfect gyration with his hips. Carson gulped, praying that Kurt wouldn't make fun of him too badly as he did his best to copy the move. He felt like the world's most awkward fool doing it, but to his relief, Kurt actually smiled.

"Not that bad for your first try, big brother. Not bad at all," he said approvingly. "I wouldn't go so far to say you're as awesome as _me_ or anything, but..."

"Oh, shut up," said Carson, swatting him on the shoulder. "Tell the truth. It was horrible."

Kurt shook his head. "No! Really, it wasn't. Here, do it again," he said, demonstrating the move again. Carson sighed and copied him again, relieved that at least his semi erection had gone down, if he accomplished nothing else.

"Definitely not bad," said Kurt. Carson smiled in spite of himself as he started to get into it, dutifully copying everything Kurt did and relaxing as he realized that he actually wasn't that terrible at it. He actually might have gone as far as to say that he was having fun, which wasn't usually a word that entered into his vocabulary unless he happened to be high as a kite.

They worked their way through the song twice, Carson actually gaining more confidence every time he tried a new move, and Kurt looking ever more approving.

"You know, I do believe you have natural talent," he said, accentuating his words with a hip thrust. "You're working those hips like Elvis in his prime."

Carson snorted. "Don't try to flatter me," he said, even though he couldn't stop smiling. "I'm not that good."

"Yes, you are!" Kurt insisted.

"No, he's not," said a voice from across the room, and Carson and Kurt both froze as they looked over to see their father standing there, a smirk on his face as he leaned up against the wall with his arms crossed. "What the hell was that?"

"Carson was helping me practice for glee, Dad," spoke up Kurt as Carson looked down at the floor in embarrassment. "And he actually is very good."

"If you say so," said Neal. "What was all that spastic stuff that he was doing, though?" he asked, giving an exaggerated, mocking rendition of one of the dance moves Carson had just done. "That stuff. Was that meant to be sexy or something? 'Cause he's got a _lot_ of work ahead of him if that was the goal."

"That's not fair, Dad, he was doing really well for a beginner," Kurt protested, trying to slip an arm around Carson, but Carson shrugged it away. He was embarrassed enough right now without having to endure Kurt's pity on top of it. He could already feel himself shutting down, the last remaining shreds of joy he had been feeling mere minutes before slowly fading away into nothing.

"What do they call those moves he was doing? The Shock Therapy?" asked Neal, chuckling at his own joke. "Jesus, kid, you looked like you were being electrocuted or some shit."

Carson felt his cheeks flushing with humiliation, every second of his father's laughter at his expense ringing cruelly in his ears, and Kurt's comforting pat on his arm feeling like the touch of a burning hot flame. He had to get out of that room as soon as possible, or else he would break down. And he was in absolutely no mood to tell his father where to shove it. He just didn't have the energy. He hurried out of the living room as fast as he could, not even bothering to pick up his school bag as he ran up the stairs to his bedroom and slammed the door behind him before locking it for good measure. He threw himself down on his bed and buried his face in his pillow, half hoping that he would smother himself to death so that he could forget the utter humiliation he felt right then.

"That was mean, Dad," he could hear Kurt saying downstairs, the music abruptly stopping. "He was doing really well. You didn't have to say those things to him."

"That wasn't mean, that was honest," Neal replied, and Carson could practically see him shrugging nonchalantly as he spoke. "Now he's probably up there crying like a little pussy. Whatever." He heard his father's footsteps walk out of the living room, and then there was silence for a moment before he heard Kurt's light footsteps ascending the stairs. He heard him pause outside his bedroom door before he knocked softly on it.

"Carson?" he said quietly through the door. Carson ignored him. He didn't want Kurt to see him like this. He said nothing, hoping that Kurt would take the hint and go away. "Carson, can I come in?" He tried opening the door, but of course could not. "Carson, come on. Please?"

_Please, Kurt, just go. Leave me alone so I can be miserable in peace, ok? Please._

Kurt finally left after a few minutes, his footsteps disappearing down the hall toward his own bedroom. Carson heard his door open and close, and he finally breathed a sigh of relief. He just wanted to sleep and forget the entire afternoon.

_Actually, sometimes I think I'd be better off sleeping forever._

* * *

He had apparently fallen asleep very soon, because the next thing he knew, he was opening his eyes to a pitch black bedroom, and his bedside clock read 2:00 a.m. He yawned, sitting up in bed and feeling a slight pain in his back where he had been crumpled up for hours. He crossed his room in the dark, rooting around in his dresser drawer until he found a pair of pajama pants, which he quickly changed into. He unlocked his door before walking back to his bed, sliding underneath the covers and trying to get back to sleep. He couldn't, though. He kept replaying the scene downstairs in his mind over and over, feeling his cheeks burn even at the memory. It was times like these where he realized just how much he hated being Neal Phillips' son.

_Just forget about it,_ he told himself, taking a deep, calming breath. _Focus on other things. Like Kurt. Those yoga pants today, holy shit. You could see everything, and it was..._

It was making his dick wake up, that was what it was doing. He groaned as he felt himself stiffening, his mind continuing to wander to Kurt, and the way his twin's hips had gyrated so effortlessly that afternoon. Like he'd been born to move that way. So sexy...

_Goddamn it all to hell,_ he thought, trying everything he could to get his erection to go down. He really didn't want to jerk off to thoughts of Kurt, but he was finding the temptation a bit too much to handle.

_Why not?_ he said to himself. _Just this once, right? He doesn't have to know. Nobody has to know but you. And you know damn well how fucking sexy he looked. Who could really resist rubbing one out while thinking of that? Nobody in the world would judge you, even if he IS your brother._

He felt his hand slipping down, his fingers running across his chest and torso before slipping down beneath the waistband of his pants. He gingerly wrapped his fingers around his swollen dick, giving himself a few light strokes to take the edge off. He told himself that was all he was going to do, but before he knew what he was doing, he was pulling his pants down to his knees and licking his palm before taking himself in hand. He stroked gently and teasingly at first, biting his lip as his brain filled with images of Kurt from that afternoon. Kurt thrusting his hips, swiveling them around like a stripper, wearing those fucking tight pants that showed off everything. His hand picked up the pace a little, getting faster as he remembered the feeling of Kurt pressed up against him, practically grinding into him. How much he had enjoyed Kurt's firm hands on his waist, holding him in place like he owned him.

"Fuck," he said out loud, his hand stroking faster and faster. He twisted it on every upstroke, teasing the sensitive little ridge on the underside just below the head, which made him bite his lip to keep from actually moaning out into the darkness. "Oh god," he breathed, feeling himself getting closer and closer to orgasm as the images in his mind ran in a continuous loop.

"Oh," he moaned. He was right there, right fucking there, and all he needed was just...

He didn't even realize his door had been opened until a soft voice called out "Carson?" into the darkness. He realized he wasn't alone just as he finally tumbled over the edge, coming hard over his hand as his dick twitched and pulsated with the effort.

"Kurt," he moaned, unsure whether he was doing it as part of his fantasy or as a legitimate query to his twin, who was standing silhouetted in Carson's doorway, looking absolutely shocked as he took in the sight before him.

"Oh," he stammered, taking a step back. "I... um... oh shit..."

"Kurt, what the fuck?" Carson groaned, unsure what to do with himself. He used his clean hand to pull his covers over himself enough so that Kurt hopefully couldn't see anything. "Don't you knock?"

"I... I couldn't sleep, and... oh god, I'm so sorry," Kurt said, backing away even further. "I didn't know... I..."

"Get the fuck OUT, Kurt!" Carson pleaded.

"I'm just going to go back to my own room," Kurt finished, pulling Carson's door closed and, presumably, hurrying as fast as he could back down the hall to the safety of his own bed.

_Goddamn it!_ Carson cursed himself for even unlocking his door in the first place. _Can this fucking day get any WORSE?_ He lay there for a few minutes, trying to regain his breath in the wake of both his orgasm and his utter embarrassment. He felt guilty for snapping at Kurt, but he supposed Kurt would understand. He hoped.

He sighed, slowly getting up out of bed and hobbling out into the hallway to the bathroom. He washed his hands and cleaned himself off, pulling up his pants and taking a good look at himself in the mirror. He looked like hell, but he supposed that wasn't much worse than he normally looked. He switched off the bathroom light and went back out into the hallway, glancing guiltily over at Kurt's bedroom door. He debated for a moment before heading for Kurt's room, gently turning the doorknob and peeking his head inside.

"Kurt?" he whispered softly into the dark room. He could see Kurt laying in his bed, facing away from him and settled against his pillow. "Kurtsie?"

"Oh, have you finished choking the chicken?" asked Kurt, turning his head to look at him. He was smiling, which, oddly, made Carson feel a little less embarrassed.

"Funny," said Carson. "I just, um... did you still want some company?"

"Only if you've cleaned up," replied Kurt. "These are good sheets, I don't need them getting all messed up with your spunk."

Carson smiled, walking all the way into the room and shutting the door behind him. Kurt scooted over, making room for him in the bed, and Carson gratefully slipped in beside him. He settled with his chest against Kurt's back, wrapping his arms around him and breathing in the comforting scent of his twin's shampoo. It smelled like berries.

"You smell nice," he murmured.

"I try," said Kurt, cuddling closer to him and sighing contentedly. "And you smell like smoke, a little. But that's ok."

"I'll wash your sheets myself in the morning," Carson promised.

"He shouldn't have said those things to you," Kurt said after a moment of silence had passed. "He was being a jerk."

"I know," said Carson with a shrug. "I don't mind, really. It's just the way he is."

"But-"

"Kurtsie, I'm tired," Carson said, wanting desperately to avoid the subject. "Can we just sleep?"

Kurt sighed. "Ok. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

* * *

Apparently, it had been a very good night indeed, at least, in Carson's mind. He dreamed of Kurt's ass in yoga pants, and when he awoke, he found, to his absolute horror, that he was hard. Not only hard, but hard in Kurt's bed. While touching Kurt.

_Shit_, he thought in a panic, trying to quietly scoot away far enough so that he wouldn't wake Kurt and have to explain his morning wood pressed against his back. _Fuck, fuck, fuck. _He'd just about managed to get his dick away from him when his stomach dropped down to his knees as he heard Kurt let out a sigh in front of him.

"Well, if it isn't my old pal, Little Carson, coming back out to play," said Kurt, the smirk on his face evident in his voice. "We meet again."

_Great._ "It's _not_ little," Carson protested, his cheeks flushing at his own words. "Besides, you do realize that we're twins, don't you? Calling my dick little is the same as calling your own little." _Really, Carson? Did you REALLY just say that? Jesus fuck. _He really wanted to disappear right then. Preferably forever.

"I realize it's not little," replied Kurt casually. "I've felt it, remember? But if it will make you feel any better, we can settle this the old fashioned way. You know, you show me yours and I show you mine?"

"_No_," said Carson quickly, the thought of seeing Kurt naked doing absolutely nothing to help his erection. "That won't be necessary, thanks."

"Suit yourself," said Kurt. He yawned and settled back against Carson, and Carson could swear he ground his ass up on his dick on purpose.

_He's going to kill me. This is doing nothing to help me find an answer to the "Do I love him or do I just think he's really sexy?" debate._

Because, really, he truly was very confused by now. He honestly couldn't tell what all these feelings meant, and the possibility of what they _probably_ meant scared the hell out of him.

_Why can't I just be normal? For once?_


	4. Chapter 4

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey, guys ^_^ First of all, thank you so much for all your reviews! I know I haven't had the time to answer every review individually lately, but we really want you to know how much we appreciate each and every one of them. They give us warm fuzzies, and we love you :) That said, we think you're reeeeally going to enjoy this chapter. So let's read!**

"Mmm," Kurt moaned, biting at his bottom lip in an attempt to keep as quiet as possible. The last thing he needed was his parents overhearing him. Or worse, Carson. It had been embarrassing enough walking in on his brother jerking off that one time. He had a feeling that the embarrassment of being the one who was walked in on would be ten times as excruciating.

Of course, that wasn't to say that he hadn't enjoyed accidentally walking in on Carson. Quite the contrary, in fact. Although neither of them had mentioned the incident since the night it happened, Carson seemed to be popping up in quite a few of Kurt's late night fantasies lately. Kurt couldn't help himself. Those sexy little moans Carson had been letting out had burned themselves into his memory, along with the way his twin has moaned his name afterwards when he realized that Kurt had just watched him come.

_I'm such a pervert_, he would think to himself shamefully every night, as he closed his eyes and worked himself with his hand, his mind flooded with images of Carson doing the same. _People have been put into prison for less than this_. He wished he had a name for what had come over him lately, because his strange, sexual obsession with Carson was slowly bleeding more and more often into his everyday life instead of staying neatly in his own mind and bedroom at night, where it belonged. He found himself constantly checking out some part of Carson's body when he was sure he wouldn't be caught doing it, whether it was his ass, his strong legs, his toned arms, or his perfectly chiseled jawline. He didn't even care that it always sounded like he was composing the world's cheesiest romance novel in his mind.

Neither did he care that he was intentionally being a tease around his twin, squeezing into tighter and tighter pants and doing his best to sway his hips as appealingly as possible whenever Carson was around. He'd even accidentally let Carson see him naked one morning after he got out of the shower. Well... more like "accidentally," since the bathroom door had been open a tiny bit and Carson had forgotten to knock before entering, but Kurt hadn't exactly reached around frantically for a towel immediately. Carson had blushed adorably and stood there with his mouth hanging open like a startled fish before running out back down the hall to his bedroom like his ass was on fire.

And that kind of reaction was part of the reason why, Kurt supposed, he kept up the teasing. Carson was terrible at disguising the fact that he was definitely enjoying it, and that made Kurt feel powerful. Just the very thought that he had that kind of effect on a man, even if it _was_ his own brother, was intoxicating. He felt sexy and desirable, and he absolutely loved it.

The other part was that he honestly did find Carson attractive, even though it made him feel guilty and dirty. He just thanked his lucky stars that he was better at hiding his reactions than Carson was.

"Ungh," he groaned, gently gliding his fist up and down his length. He could feel his face flushing as his tempo increased, his fingers brushing against the sensitive head of his dick every couple of strokes. He kept his eyes closed as he writhed against his sheets, his head full of nothing but Carson. Carson's face, his eyes, his adorable smile that showed off all his teeth, which was a rare occurrence. Carson's body on top of his. Carson moving inside of him.

"Oh, fuck," he moaned, an intense heat building up deep in his belly as he worked himself faster, bucking up into his own fist. It would be over soon, he knew, and he kind of wanted to slow down, but he didn't have nearly enough willpower in him for that. He came with a whimper over his hand as he imagined Carson leaning over him, kissing him underneath his jaw before whispering "Mine" in his ear.

"Fucking hell," he breathed out, leaning back into his pillows and trying to regain his normal breathing pace as he basked in the afterglow of his orgasm. That had been an intense one. He'd never come quite so hard before, but, then again, he'd never added such a possessive element to Fantasy Carson before, either.

_"Mine?" Jesus. I have issues, _he thought, carefully reaching over into his night stand for the package of wet wipes he kept there for easy clean up. He took care of his mess, tossing the wipes into the garbage can and pulling his pants back up before snuggling under the covers. He tried to fall asleep, but unfortunately, sleep didn't seem to be coming any time soon. Usually, when he couldn't sleep, he would tiptoe into Carson's room and beg to sleep with him, but he felt like he'd been doing that a lot lately.

_Probably because you have been, you twit_, he admonished himself. It was true, he had been making it more of a habit lately to sneak into Carson's room in the middle of the night. He slept better with his twin's warm body pressed to his own. He had no idea why. Maybe it was some kind of subconscious thing from when they were in the womb together, or whatever. Or maybe it was because Kurt secretly liked it when Carson got morning wood and he was there to feel it.

Yeah, it was probably that second thing.

_Oh, fuck it_, he sighed, getting up out of bed and tiptoeing down the hallway toward Carson's room. He gently turned the knob and stuck his head inside, his gaze fixing on Carson in the bed across the room. His twin was sleeping peacefully, his mouth hanging open slightly and his covers halfway off his body. His shirt was hiked up, revealing the creamy expanse of pale skin that was his lower back. He was a mess, but he looked perfect to Kurt.

Kurt decided not to wake him to ask permission to share the bed. He knew Carson wouldn't mind. There had never been a night where he had turned Kurt down, and Kurt couldn't imagine that tonight would be any different. He carefully slid into the bed beside Carson, which wasn't as easy a task as it should have been, considering that Carson only had a single bed compared to Kurt's double. He positioned himself in the little spoon position with his back pressed firmly to Carson's chest, sighing with contentment as he snuggled down against the pillows.

"Hi, Kurtsie," Carson mumbled sleepily, and Kurt felt his face flush as Carson wrapped an arm around his chest. "Can't sleep?"

"Nope," answered Kurt in a whisper. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not," said Carson, pulling him closer and kissing him softly on the ear. "But if I'm hard in the morning, _please_ keep all your jokes about Little Carson to your damn self."

Kurt snorted. "Deal," he promised. "Good night."

"Night," murmured Carson, his breath warm against the skin of Kurt's neck, which, ironically, caused him to shiver a little. He closed his eyes and wondered, for the millionth time, what would happen if he ever told Carson that the secret admirer flower he'd received on Valentine's Day had come from him.

_Good thing he'll never know, _Kurt thought with a yawn as he felt himself slipping into a deep, comfortable sleep. Honestly, he wasn't even sure himself why the hell he had ever sent Carson that flower. It wasn't like he _liked_ him or anything. Not in _that_ way. Of course not.

Nope.

* * *

The following weekend found the twins attending a bonfire in the woods several blocks from their house, along with Seth, Santana, and half a dozen people that Kurt only vaguely knew and who he figured were probably Santana's friends. He didn't really care who they were, because he was much too busy drinking until he couldn't remember his own name. He needed to. It had been a hell of a week at school, and getting absolutely plastered sounded like heaven.

"Kuuuur," Carson said, slurring his words as he plopped down beside Kurt on the log he was sitting on and rested his chin on his shoulder. He wasn't exactly a beacon of sobriety at the moment, either. "Kurt... Kurt, guess what, Kurt?"

"What?" asked Kurt, taking a swig from his beer bottle and directing a sloppy smile Carson's way.

"Ok... wow, ok... you know what?" said Carson, the mixed smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol on his breath attacking Kurt's nostrils. Not that he minded, really. He just hoped that his twin would stay far away from the fire, lest he burn down the whole forest with everybody inside.

"What?" he asked again.

_"You... you..._ you totally have a _fantastic_ ass," Carson answered, giggling gleefully as he bit his bottom lip and grinned at Kurt. Kurt felt his face grow hot, although he wasn't sure if it was from what Carson said, or from the alcohol. Or if it was the fire he was currently sitting about three feet away from.

"I do, hmm?" Kurt replied lazily, ignoring the drum-like thumping of his heart. He didn't know why he was even surprised at Carson's words. He already knew he had a great ass, and that Carson thought so. Lord knew he had caught him staring at it often enough. "Thanks, babe."

"You are _so welcome_," Carson crooned, kissing the side of Kurt's ear sloppily. "And... and... hehe... Santana's tits are awesome toooo."

"_What_?" asked Kurt, temporarily snapped straight out of his drunken haze.

"Yeah, like... they're so round and stuff. How... how does she get them so round? And they _bounce. _It's fucking weird. Like... does... does she put pudding in there?"

"Ok, what the fuck are you even talking about?" Kurt asked, doing his best to push down the surge of jealousy he felt at hearing Carson wax so eloquently about lady parts.

"I wonder what they feel like," Carson went on, resting his head on Kurt's chest now and making a grabby hands gesture, as though he were touching Santana's invisible boobs. "I bet they feel like balloons."

"Yeah, balloons full of silicone," Kurt mumbled. "Those things are faker than my tolerance for Rachel during glee club meetings. And since when do you care about tits, anyway?"

"I dunnoooo," Carson answered in a sing song voice. "I don't like them as much as your ass, though."

"Well, Phillips, if you're _that_ curious about it, I'm not opposed to letting you cop a feel," spoke up Santana, staggering over to them with a beer waving around in her hand. "They may be fake as fuck, but they're _awesome_. Totally worth every last bit of money my parents paid for 'em."

"…... Really?" asked Carson, sounding interested. Kurt frowned, stumbling up from his log and pulling Carson up with him.

"No, thank you, Satan," he said, giving Santana his best bitchy smile. "Carson, you... you're drunk, let's go home." It was a little early for home, especially for a Saturday night, but he suddenly didn't want to be in those woods for another second. More importantly, he didn't want _Carson_ there any longer, either.

"Boooobs, though," Carson whined, struggling against the grip Kurt had on his arm. "Boobs, Kurt. _Boobs._"

"Yeah, you are definitely drunk off your ass," Kurt mumbled, struggling to keep both himself and Carson upright while everything around him seemed to be spinning.

"No I'm _not_," Carson protested.

"Yes, you are," Kurt insisted. "You're trashed."

"You're... you're sexy," Carson retorted, causing Kurt to flush again. "M'not drunk."

"Ok, well, let's just go home anyway, hmm?" said Kurt, pulling Carson away from Santana and over to the path that would lead them out of the woods and onto the street.

"You are _no_ fun," Carson said in a sulky voice, even though he allowed Kurt to lead him. "You suck all the fun out... out of everything. You suck."

"I know," agreed Kurt, nodding.

"But your ass, thouuuugh," Carson said, his face relaxing into a smile. Kurt felt the brief touch of a firm hand on the back of his jeans, and it took him a second to piece together what had just happened with his alcohol muddled brain.

"Did... did you just cop a feel?" he asked Carson, who grinned and nodded.

"Uh-huh," he replied. "Feels firm. You have a firm ass. You... congratulations."

_Jesus_, Kurt thought. It seemed to take forever to get home, especially because they were both completely wasted and it was the drunk leading the drunk, but at long last, they reached their front door. Kurt said a silent prayer of thanks that their parents' car wasn't in the driveway. He didn't want to know what his father's reaction would be if he saw them both stumble drunkenly into the house. He had a feeling that it would somehow be blamed on Carson, who would be too drunk to defend himself if Neal decided to get violent.

"I wanna fly," Carson murmured, his face buried in Kurt's neck and his arms wrapped firmly around his waist. "I can fly, you know. I think. I mean, I've never tried, but, you know. I _could._"

"Sure you can," Kurt agreed. It took him three tries to turn his key correctly in the lock, but finally he got the door open and dragged Carson inside. "Let's... let's go upstairs. Don't wanna be down here when Mom and Dad get back."

"No," said Carson, nodding in agreement. "Dad... Dad'll be a dick, and I'll... I'll tell him, I'll say, "Hey Dad, fuck you, because I'm almost a... a fucking adult, and you can't tell me what to doooo."

Kurt smiled, stumbling up the stairs with Carson following closely behind. He turned the corner of the hallway into his own bedroom and collapsed down on the bed, only having the energy to kick his shoes off first. He looked up, noticing Carson teetering awkwardly in the doorway, as though he were afraid to come in.

"You can come join me," he assured him, reaching his arms out in invitation. "Just... take off those god awful sneakers first, will you?"

"I like my sneakers," Carson protested, even as he obediently kicked them off. He plopped down on the bed beside Kurt, immediately wrapping his arms around him and burying his face in his neck. "You smell so nice," he murmured.

"I smell like booze and smoke right now, actually," said Kurt.

"Still nice."

"You _would_ think that," said Kurt, his heart skipping a beat at the suddenly gentle way Carson was stroking one hand down the length of his arm. _That shouldn't feel as good as it feels. It shouldn't. It shouldn't, it shouldn't..._

"You smell like _Kurt_, and that's always nice," replied Carson, pressing a kiss to Kurt's neck, just underneath his jaw. Kurt shivered, trying desperately to ignore the flurry of butterflies he could feel deep in his stomach. He wondered what would happen if he turned his head a little, just a little, and kissed Carson. How would Carson react? Would he be cool with it? Would he kiss _back_? Or, more likely, would he completely freak out and stumble back to his own room as fast as his drunk legs could carry him?

_Probably that last thing_, Kurt decided, taking a deep breath and trying to get a hold of himself. _Pull yourself together, Kurt. I don't care how much he clearly enjoys staring at and, apparently, touching your body. I don't care how many times you've felt his dick pressing somewhere into your back or your ass and wanted it to go further. He's your brother and you're both drunk. Just lay here and enjoy what you have. Go to sleep._

A slight snoring sound jarred him out of his thoughts, and he realized that Carson had fallen asleep already, his face still resting against Kurt's neck so that every time he breathed out, a puff of hot air hit Kurt's skin and made his heart pound even faster.

_Shit_, he thought with a sigh, closing his eyes and following his twin into sleep.

* * *

"Tell me why I agreed to do this again," Kurt said irritably as he and Seth stood outside Felicity's Tattoo and Piercing Parlor. They had been standing there for almost an hour while Seth waffled back and forth between ready and nervous to go inside. Frankly, Kurt was beginning to lose his patience.

"Because you're my best friend and I didn't want to get my freaking tongue pierced by myself," Seth reminded him.

"Yes, I'm your best friend. I'm your best friend who's about to kick you in the cock if you don't make a decision soon," grumbled Kurt. _At home, in the living room, where Carson could get a free show. Priorities. _"Seriously, are you getting the piercing or not? I could be putting in a shit ton of dance practice right now, you know."

"I'm sorry," said Seth apologetically, frowning uncomfortably. "I just... I _want _it, but... a needle in my tongue. Fuck."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Well, no shit, honey. What do you expect them to do? Use a butter knife?"

Seth glared at him. "You're the worst. You know what I mean."

"Ok, ok," Kurt said with a sigh. "Look, it's raining and I'm freezing my ass off out here, so why don't we at least step inside the damn place? Then I'll be generous and allow you twenty more minutes of annoying indecisiveness before I abandon your ass and go home. Deal?"

Seth nodded. "Ok. Ok, let's... let's go inside." He pushed the door open, looking expectantly at Kurt.

"Are you kidding me? You seriously want me to go in first?" asked Kurt, hiding a smile despite his tone. Seth could be adorable sometimes, even if he had always been a bit on the wimpy side when it came to stuff like... well... this.

"Yes," said Seth. Kurt rolled his eyes and marched right inside, throwing a glance behind him to make sure Seth was following.

"Can I help you?" asked the girl sitting behind the counter. She had about a million piercings adorning her eyebrows, nose, and lips, and Kurt was slightly taken aback as he stared at them, fascinated. He wondered for a second how he would look with a lip piercing, but quickly decided that he would look awful. And that it would clash horribly with some of his seasonal looks.

"Yes," he replied, plastering a smile on his face. "My friend here wants to get metal jammed in his tongue."

"I _think_," Seth added quickly, glaring at Kurt. "I'm still not sure."

"Ah," said the girl, looking at him and nodding. "I understand. Would you like to watch a piercing being done first? It might calm your nerves a bit."

"We'd love to," Kurt answered for him when Seth didn't reply right away. The girl smiled and stepped out from behind her desk.

"Follow me," she said, and the boys obeyed, following her behind a large, black, velvet curtain that separated the lobby from what was clearly the piercing station. Another girl was sitting in a chair, while an older woman appeared to be sterilizing a table full of piercing equipment.

"Welcome to Felicity's," the woman said, not even turning to look at them. "I'm Felicity. Come to watch?"

"Yeah," Kurt replied cheerfully. "My friend wants a tongue piercing, but he's a complete chicken shit."

"Fuck you," Seth muttered.

"Tongues aren't really that big a deal," Felicity replied casually. "You'll see." She finished sterilizing the equipment and approached the girl. "Open," she ordered, and the girl complied, sticking her tongue out for inspection. Felicity gave it a brief once over, and then clamped a set of forceps on it. Kurt watched, fascinated, as Felicity expertly and quickly pierced the girl's tongue as though it were the easiest thing in the world. The girl didn't even flinch.

"That doesn't even look all that bad," he whispered to Seth.

"I'm not doing it," Seth said, shaking his head vigorously. "I'm not... I can't. I'm sorry we wasted so much time. Let's go."

"What do you mean you're not doing it?" asked Kurt. "After all that? Seriously?"

"Look at the _needle_, Kurt!" Seth retorted in a panicked voice. "Nope."

"Yeah, but look at the finished product," said Kurt. He had no idea what the hell had come over him, but he found himself suddenly imagining how he would look with a tongue piercing. Why? He had no fucking clue.

_I'd look like a badass_, he thought to himself, watching the girl admire her new piercing in a handheld mirror. _Nobody would think I'm quite such a perfect angel anymore. And think of when I finally start giving blowjobs someday. Guys will love a piercing._

"Fine, then _you_ get a piercing," said Seth sarcastically.

"You know what?" said Kurt, a smile slowly creeping onto his face. "I think I will."

"You... you _what_?" exclaimed Seth.

"I'm getting my tongue pierced, Seth," replied Kurt cheerfully.

"Are you eighteen, honey?" asked Felicity. Kurt rolled his eyes, reaching into his wallet and producing the fake identification he carried around for emergencies such as these.

"I think you'll find I'm plenty old enough to pierce anything I want," he said casually. Felicity looked warily from the ID to Kurt and back again, but shrugged and handed it back to him.

"Ok, kid. Hop into the chair," she said, turning back to her equipment table.

Forty-five minutes later, Kurt walked out of the parlor with slightly jittery nerves, a swollen tongue, and a panicky feeling of _What the fuck did I just do?! _settling into his stomach.

"What are you going to tell your parents?" asked Seth.

"Nothing. It's none of their business," Kurt replied, even though he knew he wasn't going to be able to keep it a secret for very long. Especially not with the way his tongue was swelling like mad. "And even if they find out, who cares? I'm my own person. Maybe I'll even tell them myself."

"But-"

"God, Seth, just shut up, ok?" Kurt snapped. "It kinda hurts to talk right now."

"Is it supposed to already be so swollen like that?" asked Seth.

"I don't know, I probably just have a sensitive tongue, can you just drop it?" snapped Kurt.

"Jesus, ok."

They walked in silence until they reached Seth's side street, where his friend gave him one last pitying look before heading for his own house. Kurt continued on alone, hoping that nobody would be home yet when he got there.

"Thank fuck," he said out loud when he let himself inside and discovered that the house was completely empty. His father was still at work, Carson must have stayed after school for that new writing club he was trying to start, and fuck only knew where his mother was. He rushed straight into the upstairs bathroom, sticking his tongue out in the mirror and admiring his new accessory.

_It looks sexy_, he assured himself. It really did, kind of. Even if, at the moment, it was surrounded by a tongue that looked like a bloated puffer fish. He was going to have a hell of a time hiding that. He wondered what Carson would say when he saw it. He decided that he didn't want to know just yet. He would wait until his tongue had stopped looking like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man, and then he would show Carson. It would look normal then.

_Good plan_, he thought to himself with a smile just as he heard the front door opened and close.

"I'm home!" announced Carson's voice. "Not that anyone usually cares. Kurt? You around?"

"Doing my homework!" replied Kurt, trying to sound as normal as he could with such a painful, tender tongue as he quickly sneaked into his bedroom. "Maths!"

"Good luck with that shit," Carson replied, and Kurt could hear him rustling around in the kitchen. _Good. He's occupied. I should be able to hide it from him for a while._

Luckily for Kurt, Carson spent the entire afternoon in his room, his mother didn't come looking for him when she got back from wherever she had been, and his father got home entirely too late for it to matter. A cleverly scheduled morning in which he pretended to oversleep insured that he wouldn't have to risk his parents noticing anything then, either.

"What's with you?" asked Carson as they walked to school that morning. "Not that I really care, mind you, but you didn't come in to shake me awake this morning."

"I was just tired," Kurt answered quickly, pretending to be checking the contents of his bag so that he could avoid looking at Carson and the risk of having his tongue discovered. "Overslept a bit. Nothing much."

"Hmmm," replied Carson, as though he didn't really believe him.

Thankfully, he managed to avoid anyone noticing anything unusual for the rest of the school day. He practically sprinted home after his last class, desperate to find something he could eat. He hadn't eaten a thing since the previous day due to his swollen tongue, and he was starving. He let out an undignified shout of joy when he discovered a tub of ice cream in the freezer.

_Perfect_, he thought happily. He didn't even bother to get a bowl. He grabbed a spoon and stuck it right in the tub, carrying it out into the living room. He stopped dead in his tracks when he discovered that his mother was there, sitting on the couch and thumbing through a magazine.

"Hey, Kurt," she said cheerfully (for her) and giving him a smile. "How was your day?"

"Um... ok," Kurt murmured through a mouthful of ice cream.

"Don't fill up on that stuff," she said, getting up and patting him on the shoulder on her way into the kitchen. "I'm making dinner tonight."

"You are?" Kurt asked, at the same time as Carson breezed through the kitchen door and asked the same question.

"Since when?" Carson added. "Usually I forget that you even know how to cook."

"And that's the kind of smart assed attitude that discourages me from cooking for you in the first place," their mother retorted.

"I was just making an observation," replied Carson casually, shrugging his shoulders. "There's no need to get snippy."

"_I'm_ snippy? Have you looked in a mirror lately?" Sheryl replied. "They could make batteries with your attitude, it's so full of acid."

"Gee, Mother, I wonder where I get it from," muttered Carson.

"I'm sure I don't know," their mother replied, rooting around in the cupboard under the sink for a metal pot. "Your father, probably. Ever since you were a kid, you've been a little asshole. Not like your brother, that's for sure. He's my son. You're your father's son."

Carson rolled his eyes, but there was a very brief, very small look of hurt on his face at their mother's words. He hid it quickly, and an untrained eye would never even have noticed it was there at all. But Kurt saw it. He saw it, and he hated it, because seeing Carson look vulnerable and lost, even for a split second, made his blood boil with anger.

Which was why he couldn't really stop himself in time from doing what he did next.

"Well, Mom, you might want to make something like soup," he said casually, leaning up against the fridge with his arms crossed. "Definitely nothing solid. I can't handle it, you know, because I'm recovering from a tongue piercing."

There was a stunned silence in the kitchen for a moment. Sheryl looked shocked, while Carson looked curious, and Kurt could just tell he was wondering if Kurt was serious or joking. Nobody said a word until their mother finally found her voice.

"You're _what?_" she exclaimed.

"I got my tongue pierced yesterday," Kurt repeated as casually as if he were discussing the rain. "Downtown. It swelled up like a bitch at first, and it's starting to go down now, but I'm not going to be able to eat solids for at least a few weeks, so I just thought you should know."

"You got your TONGUE PIERCED?" Sheryl yelled, her eyes practically bugging out of her head when Kurt stuck his tongue out to show her. "What on _earth_ would possess you to get your damn tongue pierced? Why the hell would you do that?"

"What's going on in here?" asked their father, coming into the kitchen and looking confused. _Well, you're home uncharacteristically early_, Kurt could practically see Carson thinking across the room.

"_Your son_ got his tongue pierced without permission," Sheryl snapped.

"He _WHAT_?" Neal bellowed. "Carson, I swear to god!" He started marching over to Carson, his face a storm cloud, until he was stopped in his tracks by Kurt's voice.

"No, Dad. Actually, it was me. I got the piercing. Right here," he said, sticking his tongue out and waving to punctuate his point.

Neal froze for a moment, looking between the twins with a torn look on his face, as though he didn't quite know how to handle the situation. Which, Kurt figured, he probably didn't. He was so used to screaming at Carson over every little thing that it was probably blowing his mind that he had no cause for it right now.

For a minute, he just stood there, looking confused. Kurt patiently waited for him to turn around and start yelling at him. He was kind of looking forward to it, actually. He's never actually been in serious trouble before, and the prospect was strangely exciting.

Apparently, the situation was just too much for his father to handle, because he turned right back to Carson and continued taking his anger out on him.

"And where were _you_ when this happened?" he snapped, getting up in Carson's face while Carson glared at him.

"What the hell do you mean, where was I?" Carson snapped back. "I didn't even know he had done it until about five minutes ago, and besides, even if I did know, what the hell was I supposed to do about it? I'm not his father, _Neal._ Where were _you_ when it happened?"

Kurt honestly thought that his father was going to slap Carson after that remark. His hand even went up in the air in preparation, but Carson was too quick for him. He ducked under their father's arm and grabbed his bag, patting Kurt on the shoulder on his way out of the kitchen.

"Kurt, the piercing looks fucking awesome," he said before disappearing into the living room and up the stairs.

"You see?" Neal muttered. "He's influencing him."

"No, Dad, he's not!" Kurt snapped, surprised at his own tone of voice. He'd never spoken to either parent like this before. "This was entirely _my_ decision. It's my body, and my choice. Carson had nothing to do with it, so if you want to punish someone, punish me."

"Fine," Neal growled. "You're grounded. Go to your room."

"Fine with me," muttered Kurt, grabbing his ice cream tub and storming out of the kitchen. He bounced up the stairs, peeking into Carson's room instead of going to his own. His twin was flopped stomach down onto his bed, absentmindedly playing with his phone.

"Big decision you made, there," he said, not turning around to look at Kurt.

"Yeah," Kurt agreed.

"Did it hurt?"

"Not at the time, but it really hurts now," Kurt answered honestly.

"How long until it heals?"

"Three weeks or so, I guess."

"It's kind of sexy," said Carson, and Kurt could see a small smile spreading across his face.

"Yeah?" asked Kurt. "You think so?"

"I think so," answered Carson. "Granted, I have no fucking idea what the hell was going through your brain, but yes. It's sexy."

_Good to know_, Kurt thought, grinning as he realized he'd just opened up a world of new teasing possibilities. _So, SO good to know._

* * *

Almost four weeks later, Kurt was beginning to regret ever getting the stupid piercing in the first place. He was sick to death of having to be careful of every little thing he put in his mouth, lest he cause an infection and then _really_ be in trouble. He was sick to death of having to put all his food in a blender before he ate it. And he was _really_ sick of not being able to drink. He'd missed out on several fun parties while he recovered. Well, he'd gone to them, of course. He'd enjoyed the rebellious thrill of sneaking out of the house when he was meant to be grounded. He just couldn't enjoy himself while there, because alcohol and any sort of smoke were strictly prohibited until his tongue was fully healed.

Which was why he was ecstatic when the day came that he could finally eat solid food again without wincing in pain. He wasn't even going to celebrate by going out. He and Carson were just going to make a night of it at home. They ordered in all manner of takeaway food and gorged themselves in front of the television while their parents were out.

"This is heaven," Kurt moaned as he finished off his fourth slice of pizza.

"Apparently so," Carson said, watching in fascination as Kurt reached for a fifth slice. "Christ, where are you putting it all?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," Kurt said teasingly. He was already more than a little drunk, having also polished off two beers with his pizza, and Carson was well on his way to being high as a kite, having added a little herbal refreshment to his own meal. They sat side by side on the couch, the light from the television illuminating Carson's face beautifully in the dark as he took drag after drag from his joint.

"See something you like, Kurt?" he asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Maybe," replied Kurt, taking a long swig from his beer. "You know that Dad is going to kill you when he smells that stuff when he gets home."

"Like I care?" replied Carson.

"I guess not."

"Want a hit?" asked Carson, offering the joint to Kurt. He looked so ethereal at the moment, and Kurt sucked in a breath at just how fucking _gorgeous _he looked.

"No, thanks," he replied. "All yours."

"You sure?" Carson teased. "Just one to celebrate being back in the land of the normal?"

"Fuck you, I was always normal," Kurt retorted. "Now I'm normal with a pierced tongue."

Carson took another drag, keeping the smoke inside and leaning forward, his face inches away from Kurt's. Kurt rolled his eyes and opened his mouth, waiting for Carson to deposit the smoke into his mouth. He felt Carson's lips brush his, and he had a hard time remembering that he was supposed to be inhaling, because, for whatever reason, all he could think was _His lips just basically touched mine. Like...TOUCHED. I wonder what would happen if I pressed them closer. Just a little. Just a very little bit. I... He's so GORGEOUS tonight, fuck..._

He felt his brain close down, leaving him on complete autopilot as his body made all the decisions. Before he knew what he was doing, he was leaning forward, his face right up against Carson's, and then he very gently pressed their lips back together. It wasn't much, just enough pressure to barely be called a kiss, but still. It was a kiss. A real one.

And it felt fantastic.

Their lips parted for a brief moment before Kurt surged them back together and kissed him again, a little harder and more insistent this time. It felt... fuck, there weren't any words adequate enough to describe how it felt. It was just bliss, pure and simple. The alcohol coursing through his veins probably had a bit to do with that, but Kurt didn't even care. Kissing Carson was all he'd ever imagined it would be. He swore he saw fireworks going off behind his eyelids.

"Kurt," Carson whispered, parting from the kiss and looking into Kurt's eyes. He looked uncertain, and even a little scared, but there was something else there in his eyes, something that Kurt couldn't quite place. "Kurt, what are we doing?"

And even though every fiber of Kurt's being screamed at him to say "I don't know," and admit that he was just as uncertain of what the hell was going on as Carson was, his pride wouldn't allow him to. Not to mention, he was feeling a hell of a lot of confidence running through him at the moment, thanks to his liquid courage.

"I want you," he replied, surprising even himself at how determined he sounded. "Is that a problem?" _Oh my GOD, what the fucking hell did I even just say?_ He expected Carson to slap him, or at least get up off the couch and ask him what the actual fuck was going on.

But to his surprise, not to mention relief and joy, Carson didn't do that. He simply bit his bottom lip, staring into Kurt's eyes for a second before shaking his head. "No," he replied. "No, that... that's not a prob-"

He got no further, because Kurt didn't waste any time surging forward and hungrily attacking his mouth, kissing him like his life depended on it. He grabbed the joint from Carson and stuck it in the ash tray on the coffee table, his lips never leaving his twin's for a second. Carson moaned into his mouth, and Kurt shivered with delight, his hand coming up to stroke lightly at the side of Carson's face. Carson kissed him back eagerly, and Kurt gasped when he felt his bottom lip being sucked between both of Carson's. He had no idea how it happened, but one second they were sitting up on the couch, hands pawing at each other desperately, and the next he was climbing into Carson's lap, one leg on either side of him as he straddled him and kissed him greedily. He experimentally poked at Carson's lips with his tongue and almost fainted when Carson parted them, granting his tongue access immediately. Kurt was cautious, not wanting his piercing to get stuck somehow, or worse, hurt Carson.

"Mmmph," his twin moaned, and then Carson was maneuvering himself onto his back. Kurt sucked in a breath as he felt himself being pulled down on top of him. He didn't even allow his brain a moment to freak out. He just went with it, relishing the feeling of being draped over Carson's body, as close as he could possibly be.

"Oh god," Carson moaned, and Kurt felt warm hands creeping cautiously underneath his T-shirt. "Oh god, you... your skin... feels so soft, fuck..."

Kurt scurried to keep up, fumbling with his hands until he managed to get them underneath Carson's hoodie and shirt. His fingers met warm, soft flesh, and he swore he could have died right there, especially three seconds later when he felt one hand leave his back and stick itself as far as it could go down the back of his pants.

"Carson, fuck..." he groaned, his lips travelling down to Carson's jaw and sucking experimentally. "God..."

The sound of a car in the driveway made both of them gasp, and Kurt was sure that it would probably have been comical for someone to witness the hurried way in which they practically flew off of each other and began fixing their clothes. They didn't look at each other as they started cleaning up the mess in the living room as quickly as they were able, considering that Kurt was drunk and Carson was high _and_ drunk. Kurt took the ashtray and joint away just in the nick of time, for the door opened not three seconds later and in walked their parents, giggling and clinging to each other for support.

_Well, looks like we aren't the only drunk ones_, Kurt thought, watching as their parents stumbled upstairs without paying a bit of mind to either twin.

"Saved by the alcohol," he muttered under his breath. He and Carson continued cleaning up in silence, neither of them looking at the other. Kurt didn't know what the hell he would even say if they did speak. _"Sorry I attacked you?" "Making out was fun?"_

_"Kissing you is the closest thing to heaven that I've ever experienced and I want to do it again as soon as possible?"_

No. No, none of those things would do.

It seemed to take hours, but finally they had everything relatively straightened up. Kurt just hoped that the smell of pot would dissipate enough by morning that it wouldn't be noticed when their parents came down for breakfast. He opened up a window in the living room before heading upstairs, just in case. He avoided Carson's gaze until they had both reached the landing and stopped outside Carson's door.

"Well..." Kurt murmured.

"Um..." said Carson.

"Good night," said Kurt.

"Yeah. Yeah, good night," replied Carson. They looked at each other for a moment in awkward silence.

"Your eyes are _soooo _blue," Carson said, and Kurt bit his lip to keep from giggling.

"Good night, Carsey," he said, escaping to his own room as fast as possible so he could turn over the evening's events in his mind.

_Did I just fucking make out with my own brother?_ he thought to himself as he stumbled into a pair of pajama pants and crawled into bed. _Did I seriously just..._

_And do I really want nothing more than to do it again? Like... the sooner the better?_

He turned the question over for about two seconds before he decided that yes, he did. He got up out of bed and marched out of his room, padding softly down the hall and opening Carson's door with determination.

"Kurt?" said Carson. His twin was flopped down on his back in bed, and he looked over curiously at Kurt when he entered.

"I... " Kurt began, not quite knowing how to finish that sentence. So he didn't. He strode over to Carson's bed, crawling up on it like he owned it, and straddled him, his hands resting on Carson's chest and rubbing nervously. "Can I kiss you?" he asked quietly.

Carson hesitated only a moment before he nodded. "Yes. God, yes," he answered, pulling Kurt down on top of him and attacking his lips with his own. Kurt moaned, hungrily kissing Carson back as he hooked his fingers underneath Carson's shirt and started pulling it up. He felt like some kind of wild animal had taken over his body, because all he knew was that he wanted that fucking shirt off so he could have nothing between his fingers and Carson's flawless skin. He yanked it up over Carson's head and tossed it aside before diving back into a greedy kiss, his hands roaming over every inch of his twin's chest that he could reach. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who hated shirts right now, because the next thing he knew, there was a bunch of fabric around his face as Carson pulled off his shirt and gave it the same unceremonious tossing that his own had received.

"So soft, Kurt, Jesus," Carson groaned, and Kurt actually growled into the kiss. He flipped them over, pulling Carson over him and running his hands eagerly down his twin's back as their legs slotted together. It took Kurt a moment to register that their dicks were actually touching through the fabric of their pants, and another moment to register that they were both hard, but when he finally realized it, it was like a ton of bricks had hit him over the head.

_That's a dick. That's Carson's dick, and it's hard, and it's touching my dick, which is also hard, and both of our ERECTIONS are touching, and oh god it feels fucking fantastic..._

His brain pretty much shut off after that, because all he could focus on was the feel of Carson's arousal sliding against his own as they ground together, their lips hungrily devouring each other and their hands groping anything they could find. Carson's lips left his, travelling down to Kurt's neck where it met his shoulder and sucking hard, and Kurt gasped out, his legs wrapping around Carson's waist. He pushed his feet into Carson's ass, forcing their bodies closer together as he bucked up to meet the lazy thrusting that Carson was doing on top of him. He could feel himself getting close, and he didn't even want to think about what would happen if the pants were to actually come off, because this... just this, grinding through their clothes with only their chests experiencing skin to skin contact... just this was too much.

_Too much more and I'll probably die_, he decided. He gasped as Carson gave his neck a particularly hard suck, and his hips involuntarily bucked up hard into Carson's. He felt his twin shudder against him and then still, and then there was a twitching in Carson's pants before Kurt felt something wet and warm against him. He looked up into Carson's face, at the shocked and thoroughly blissed out look in his eyes, and that was all it took for him to reach his own climax, burying his scream of pleasure in Carson's neck.

Neither of them moved after that, for a very long time. They stayed frozen in place, clinging to each other, breathing hard, trying to make sense out of what had just happened. It occurred to Kurt that they couldn't very well move much anyway, because they were in a single bed. Which was a weird thing to think, because honestly, he would be perfectly happy never moving again. Carson could stay on top of him panting forever, and he'd be perfectly fine with that.

"What..." Carson stammered, looking down into Kurt's face and shivering. "What just happened?"

"Who cares?" Kurt replied, not knowing how else to answer that question. "Whatever it was, it was just... _fuck_."

"Yeah," Carson replied, collapsing on top of Kurt and resting his head on his chest. "Just... wow."

"Yeah," Kurt agreed, staring up at the ceiling as he stroked Carson's hair. "Wow."

_Wow is right. What the actual HELL just happened?_

_And when can it happen again?_


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: I knoooow, I know, this chapter is late as hell. I blame exams and my stupid work schedule. But here we go! This chapter is... well, it's smutty. And we think you're really going to like it. Also, as a side note, there's a bit of French speaking in this chapter. As neither of us are French speakers, we used Google Translate to construct the phrases, so if the French is not 100% accurate, we apologize. The English translations for what we were trying to say will be posted at the bottom of the chapter to avoid spoilers.**

**Sooo, I think that's everything. Let's read!**

Carson lay awake in his darkened bedroom, staring up at the ceiling and listening to the sound of traffic outside his window as he waited patiently for Kurt's signal. It was their routine now, sort of. That one drunken encounter the night they had first kissed had certainly not been their last. Not by a long shot. On the contrary, there had been many more just like it since then, albeit usually minus the influence of weed. They hadn't really discussed it, and Carson had no idea what to make of their new hobby that had quickly and very drastically changed the nature of their relationship practically overnight. Nor did he particularly want to think about it very hard, because he knew that, if he did, the overwhelming implications of it all would probably crush him. All he knew right now, and all he _wanted_ to know right now, was that a nightly (and sometimes daily, as well) tangle of tongues and limbs had pretty much become the norm, that he was addicted to it, and that he didn't ever want it to end.

Ten more minutes passed, and Carson glanced impatiently at his bedside clock. _It's already two in the morning, Kurt. Come on. I'm going to die of sexual frustration pretty soon if you don't-_

The buzzing of his phone interrupted his thoughts, and he excitedly grabbed it, swiping the lock screen eagerly to read Kurt's text message.

_**Get your sexy ass in here, baby. I'm ready. **_

Carson didn't even finish reading the entire message before he was bounding out of bed and expertly turning his doorknob as quietly as possible to avoid detection. It was of the utmost importance that they were as silent as they could be during these little trysts. The last fucking thing either of them needed was being caught by one of their parents. Carson was pretty sure that he would be murdered, and that the grounding Kurt had received for his illicit tongue ring would look like a pleasant Sunday stroll down a garden path compared to what _his_ punishment would be. They'd had a few close calls, but so far had yet to actually be caught. And Carson intended to keep it that way.

He reached Kurt's room in under three seconds, quietly tapping the door open without using the doorknob. He never had to use it, because Kurt always made sure to keep the door cracked open for him. He slid inside the room and carefully closed the door behind him before turning back around to face the absolute vision of beauty awaiting him on the bed. Kurt was sprawled out on it, clad in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs and gazing across the room at Carson with an expression of pure lust in his eyes that was only made more dramatic by the dim lighting provided by the single desk lamp that Kurt had left on. He sat up eagerly when Carson looked at him, holding out his arms and making a grabby gesture with his hands.

"Get on me," he ordered, and Carson sure as fuck didn't have to be told twice. He was over there instantly, crawling onto the bed and crashing his lips against his twin's. He yanked his own shirt off as he positioned his legs on either side of Kurt's thighs and straddled him, moaning a little into the kiss when Kurt bucked his hips up. He'd already been half hard before he'd even reached Kurt's room, and the delicious friction against him and the feel of Kurt's warm, writhing body beneath him had him fully erect in seconds. He ground his hips down into Kurt's, biting a little at his twin's bottom lip before moving his lips over to place tiny nips and bites down the length of Kurt's jawline. He'd very quickly learned that this was the fastest way to really get Kurt going, and he was rewarded with a small gasp from his brother as he began licking and sucking the spot below his ear.

"Better keep quiet, baby," he whispered in Kurt's ear, catching his earlobe between his teeth as he did so. "We don't want to get caught."

"Stop trying to make me moan like a porn star, then," replied Kurt, throwing his head back to give Carson better access to his skin.

"Please, everything makes you moan," Carson retorted, moving his hips in slow circles and relishing the feel of the hard dick beneath his own that was barely contained by Kurt's underwear. He ran his hands across Kurt's chest, catching one nipple between his thumb and forefinger, which earned him a suppressed squeak from Kurt.

"Yeah, fuck you. It's time to play hardball," Kurt whispered, grabbing at Carson's waist firmly. Carson didn't even have time to think before he felt himself being flipped, and before he knew what was happening, he was on his back against Kurt's pillows, and Kurt was on top of him, straddling him in a reverse image of the way they had been positioned mere seconds ago. Carson rested his hands on Kurt's thighs briefly before they travelled back a little to settle on the swell of his twin's ass. He slipped them inside the thin fabric of Kurt's underwear, greedily kneading the flesh there and trying his best to keep quiet as Kurt kissed him hungrily. His tongue pressed against Carson's lips, demanding entrance into his mouth, and Carson granted it, shivering in delight when he felt the cool metal of Kurt's piercing contrasting with the warm writhing of his tongue.

"Mmmph," he moaned, bucking his hips up to meet Kurt's rhythm as he eagerly kissed him back. He was slightly disappointed when Kurt's mouth suddenly left his, but he forgot about it when he felt lips pressing into his jaw, and then down to the hollow where his throat met his chest, and then further down, where they settled over his nipple and sucked.

"Oh!" Carson cried out, biting his lip at the sensation. This was new. Neither of them had ever travelled below the neck before. Not with their mouths, anyway. There had been plenty of handjobs and fingers roaming everywhere they could reach, but this... this was a completely new experience, and Carson was eager to enjoy it. He struggled to control his breathing as Kurt worked his tongue, laving it over one nipple before moving on to the other, his piercing intensifying the sensation so much that Carson was afraid he wasn't going to be able to keep quiet much longer if Kurt kept it up.

This turned out not to be an issue, because Kurt only continued for another moment before moving even further down, and Carson's brain was a confused cloud as he felt Kurt kissing his way down his chest, down the flat expanse of his stomach, and even further down to rest just below his belly button. He felt himself stiffen more in his pants as it finally hit him where Kurt was. He glanced down, finding Kurt's mischievous blue eyes staring back at him from between his legs.

"Kurt?" he whispered, phrasing the name like a question because he honestly wasn't sure what the hell was going on here. What did Kurt have in mind? Did he want to...

The sight and feel of warm fingers hooking into the waistband of his pajama pants answered his question before his brain had even finished asking it. Apparently, yes. Kurt _did_ have something below the waist in mind.

"May I?" Kurt asked, his fingers hanging onto Carson's pants as they lightly stroked the skin beneath them. Carson let out a breath and nodded. Yes. Kurt could do whatever the fuck he wanted, especially if he was going to lick his lips like _that_. He closed his eyes and gasped as Kurt swiftly pulled down his pants and the cool air of the room met his now exposed skin. He snuck another glance down between his legs, where Kurt was comfortably positioning himself as he looked at Carson's dick with wide eyes.

"It's so big," he said quietly, and Carson raised one eyebrow.

"You've seen it before, Kurt."

"Yeah, I know, but... I've never actually seen it this close-up," replied Kurt, leaning in close to it and giving Carson a few lazy strokes with his hand. His mouth was so close to Carson's erection that he could feel Kurt's warm breath on it as his twin spoke, and he had to bite back a moan at the sensation. Which turned out to be a hell of a lot easier said than done when he felt a tongue giving the head of his dick a tentative lick three seconds later.

"Fuck!" he gasped, looking down into Kurt's eyes, which were looking up at him from underneath long lashes. Kurt looked mesmerized, and the sight of him looking up at Carson while his tongue delicately traced the shape of the head almost made Carson forget his own name.

"You taste good," said Kurt in between licks, as if he were testing out a new flavor of lollipop.

"I do?" asked Carson.

"Well, ok, you don't exactly taste like a gourmet French dish or anything, but you're not unpleasant," Kurt clarified, wrapping his lips around the head and giving it a gentle suck.

"Oh my god," Carson breathed, overwhelmed by sensation as Kurt grew bolder and more daring with his sucking and licking. This was _definitely_ new, and he liked it. A lot. He said a silent prayer to whatever god may or may not exist, praising the day that his twin had suddenly developed a wild streak and decided to get a tongue piercing. He didn't have any previous blowjob experience to compare it with, of course, but he was pretty sure that since his first one was involving a metal stud, anything else wasn't ever going to quite cut it.

"Feel good?" asked Kurt, popping off of the head with a smacking sound and beginning to pepper small kisses down the length of Carson's dick.

"You could say that," replied Carson. "Fuck."

"Excellent," said Kurt with a sly smile. He licked a long stripe up Carson's length, and then he lowered his mouth onto him, taking him as far inside as he could. Carson's brain was suddenly full of white noise. He thought maybe he gasped or moaned, but he couldn't really be sure, because he had literally lost the ability to do anything but feel. He could only feel and enjoy as Kurt began bobbing his head, slowly and carefully at first before picking up a somewhat sloppy rhythm. He wanted so badly to buck his hips up into the sensation, but thankfully he had enough control over his actions not to do that. He didn't want to choke Kurt, obviously.

"Ungh," he groaned, his hands resting in Kurt's hair carefully as his twin worked him over with his mouth. He threaded his fingers through the soft, brown hair, careful not to pull too hard. Kurt was very particular about his hair, and Carson had the feeling that doing anything unwanted to it was a bad idea, especially right now, with his dick in such close contact with Kurt's teeth. He gasped and bit his lip hard enough to draw a little blood as Kurt's mouth surrounded him, almost fully engulfing him in warm, wet heat. Between that and Kurt's soft hand delicately toying with his balls, he wasn't going to last very long. He could already feel an orgasm building in his gut, and it was going to be fucking huge.

"K-kurt..." he stammered out, unable to concentrate much on forming words while Kurt's piercing traced along the underside of his dick. "Fuck..."

Kurt popped off of him again and looked at him with a smile as he stroked him with his hand. "Gonna come?"

"Mmm-hmm," Carson replied, breathing hard.

"Good," said Kurt. He gave the head of Carson's dick one last suck and then began stroking him earnestly, his hand working at a fast and steady pace that was quickly bringing Carson where he needed to be. "Come for me, Carson," he said quietly, pulling himself up far enough to place his mouth back on Carson's nipple, and the feeling of his piercing against the sensitive skin was what did it. Carson moaned, arched his back, and came hard, pulsating in Kurt's hand as his vision went white and he almost forgot how to breathe. Kurt stroked him through it until Carson finally collapsed back against the pillows, gasping for breath and basking in the afterglow of his orgasm.

"Holy shit," he panted, vaguely registering the sight of Kurt giving his hand a tentative lick.

"Not that bad of a taste," Kurt mused as he reached into his night table drawer for a package of wet wipes and began cleaning himself and Carson off before pulling Carson's pants back up.

"Jesus Christ," Carson murmured. He lay there for a second, catching his breath as the haze in his brain finally began to clear. "That was... ungh."

"You're welcome," said Kurt grandly, scooting up to wrap his arms around Carson and rest his head on his chest.

"What about... shouldn't I... you?" Carson stammered, only just then realizing that Kurt's underwear were gone and that his twin was pressed against him completely nude. _Holy shit, just kill me._

"Oh," said Kurt, biting his lip and looking embarrassed. "I, uh... already."

"You did?" asked Carson.

"Yeah. I just... sucking you off really turned me on, and I just..." Kurt trailed off. "In my underwear."

"Jesus," Carson breathed, catching Kurt's lips in a desperate kiss. "That's the hottest thing ever."

"Hotter than me sucking your dick?" teased Kurt.

"Well, ok. Second hottest thing ever."

"Fuck you," said Kurt, snuggling closer to him and kissing him fondly on the chest. "You really shouldn't fall asleep here, you know."

"I know," replied Carson, holding Kurt close. He didn't want to let him go yet. Not for a while. Or possibly ever.

"You should go back to your room and we should get some sleep. School," Kurt continued, yawning. "End of year exams."

"Yeah. School," agreed Carson.

"I don't want you to go yet, though," whispered Kurt.

"Me either," said Carson.

That was the last thing either of them said before falling asleep, still holding on to each other tightly.

* * *

The summer holidays started off on a decidedly spicy note, now that the boys had opened up a whole new set of sexual gates for themselves. Carson wasn't sure which he liked better, receiving blowjobs or giving them. On one hand, he very much enjoyed Kurt's mouth on him, especially with that damn piercing to enhance the sensation. On the other hand, it turned out that sucking Kurt off elicited the best moans of all out of his twin, and Carson enjoyed that just as much, if not more.

In short, it was a very difficult decision to make. So he was perfectly fine with continuing to conduct research to find the answer for as long as it took.

Of course, that wasn't to say that they spent every waking moment blowing each other. They did still have lives. Kurt had his friends and his piano lessons, and Carson had various money making activities to attend to and, one dark and gloomy day, a father-son outing to suffer through.

Strangely enough, it didn't start out as a bad thing. Carson had been in his room one afternoon, minding his own business and taking inventory of what he had to sell within the next week, when a rapping on his door startled him out of his concentration. He hid his products under the bed just in time to look relatively innocent when his bedroom door opened. He'd been expecting his mother, probably bitching at him to take the garbage out, but instead he was shocked to see his father peeking his head into the room.

"Dad?" asked Carson. His father almost never came into his room to find him, so he figured he must be in trouble for something or other. He waited patiently for Neal to start bitching at him, but to his surprise, his father just cleared his throat and cautiously entered the room.

"Hey, Carson," he said in an overly cheerful voice, as though talking to Carson in without sounding pissed were an extraordinary effort for him.

"…..Hey," replied Carson, wondering where exactly this was going.

"How, um... how are things?" asked Neal awkwardly.

"They're fine, Dad. What do you want?" asked Carson, getting right to the point. His father cleared his throat and looked at him.

"Well, um... ok, here's the thing," Neal began, pulling Carson's desk chair out and sitting down on it. "Most of the employees at the company are taking their kids to work tomorrow. You know, as sort of a career shadowing thing. I asked your brother, but he said he had a full schedule tomorrow, and he has that... that _thing_ in his mouth, anyway."

"So you're asking your second choice son?" asked Carson. He was more than a little confused. This was the first time he could remember in his entire life that his father had ever suggested a father/son outing, even as backhanded as it was being presented. Usually he went well out of his way to either pretend that Carson didn't exist or to punish him for existing.

"Well, hey, you don't have to make it sound like that," said Neal uncomfortably. "When was the last time we spent any quality time together, hmm?"

"_Never_, Dad," Carson pointed out. "We've literally _never_ spent any quality time together, and you suddenly want me to hang out at work with you? Do the other people at your job even know you have _two_ sons?"

"Oh, come on," said Neal with a sigh, ignoring the question.

"Yeah, as fun as that sounds, I'm gonna have to pass," said Carson. He could just picture the day he would have if he agreed to go. He'd spend the whole time being free labor and having to pretend that his father was the best dad in all the land. _Yeah, fuck that. He's literally never done anything for me, why should I do anything for him?_

"Come on, Carson. Don't be like that," said Neal, sounding only slightly irritated. "I feel like I hardly know you anymore."

"Anymore? When did you _ever_ know me?" asked Carson. "Seriously, that's a legitimate question. I genuinely want to know."

"Look, either come or don't. It's no skin off my ass," said Neal irritably. "I just thought this would be a good opportunity for us. You're not a kid anymore. You'll be leaving home soon enough, and we should make the most of the little time we have left before that happens."

"It would have been really great if you had thought about this sixteen years ago, Dad," said Carson quietly.

"Come on, son. Just do this one thing for me, hmm?" said Neal, offering Carson a small smile. "I'll even pay you, if that's what it takes."

Carson looked at him, blinking in confusion. _Did he just call me "son?" He's never called me that. He's never called me anything except my name, or usually "Little Asshole," or "Pussy."_

He tried to push down the faint, nagging feeling deep in his gut, the one that said "_Maybe he's being genuine, here. Maybe he wants to actually act like your father for a change."_

_My ass_, thought Carson. _He hates me. I'm just a convenient second choice._

_But... oh, fuck it. I'm not gonna turn down money._

"I'll be requiring the money up front," he said before he could stop himself.

"I thought you'd see reason," said Neal, getting up from the desk chair and smiling as he patted Carson on the shoulder. "Try to look nice tomorrow, hmm? Borrow something from your brother, maybe."

"Yeah, whatever," replied Carson. He watched his father cross the room to the door, which opened before he got there to reveal Kurt bounding into the room. Kurt stopped in his tracks when he passed their father on his way out, and his face instantly took on a concerned look.

"What was he doing in here?" he asked sharply. He shut the door behind him, crossing over to Carson and sitting down beside him as he placed an arm around him protectively. "Are you ok? What did he do to you?"

"It's fine, Kurt," Carson assured him. "It was nothing. Besides, if he tried to hit me now, he'd get hit right the fuck back. I'm not four years old anymore. No, he was just in here to ask me to go with him to work tomorrow. Which is all _your_ fault, by the way."

"He _what?_" exclaimed Kurt, looking shocked. "Jesus, I wasn't expecting _that_! I didn't want to go, so I told him the sing along _Sound of Music_ is tomorrow. I didn't think he would ask you!"

"Yeah, well, he did," muttered Carson.

"You said no, though, right?" said Kurt. "I mean..."

"Actually, I told him I would go," replied Carson smoothly.

"You... why?" asked Kurt, looking confused. "Honey, you don't have to go. I'll go for you. I will."

"No, Kurt, it's fine," Carson insisted. "He's paying me, anyway."

"He... what?" asked Kurt.

"He said he'd pay me. I'm not gonna turn down money," said Carson, trying to sound casual. He didn't want to voice what he was really thinking, which was that, deep down inside, no matter how much he didn't want to admit it to himself, and no matter how much he knew it wasn't really true, he was secretly hoping that maybe once, just this one time in his entire life, his dad was actually going to try to be... well, his dad.

And that the prospect sounded good to him.

The next morning found Carson, dressed in a nice outfit of Kurt's that wasn't too out there for his personal taste but which still made him feel very much out of his element, sitting beside his father in the car on their way to the mid-sized real estate agency that Neal worked for. Surprisingly, the morning had started off on a pleasant enough note. It was weird not having his father make any disparaging remarks about him at breakfast, but Carson supposed there was a first time for everything. Neal had only nodded in approval at Carson's clothes and continued eating his toast while Kurt gave both of them a curious look.

"Have a good day?" Kurt whispered in his ear before Carson left that morning.

"You owe me a blowjob later. Since it's your fault I got roped into this, and all," Carson replied casually.

"That depends. If one thing happens to my clothes, I'm never going near your dick ever again," said Kurt. "You be careful wearing that outfit. It's designer."

"Ok, ok, I promise I won't fuck up your clothes," Carson promised.

"Then I _might_ consider sucking you off later," replied Kurt, kissing him on the cheek with smile.

Now Carson had been sitting in the car next to his dad in complete silence for the past fifteen minutes, watching the scenery go by and wondering if this had been such a good idea after all.

"So, what are we doing today, Dad?" he asked at last, in an attempt to break the uncomfortable silence. He felt like he had to say _something_. He still wasn't even sure what the fuck he was even doing there, other than the fact that he was now thirty quid richer than he'd been the previous day.

"We're stopping by my office so I can file some paperwork, and then we'll be out showing a few houses," replied his father, keeping his eyes squarely on the road. "Maybe we can go to lunch somewhere later, how's that sound?"

_Sounds foreign to me_, thought Carson. _Considering that you've never taken me anywhere in the past sixteen years, and certainly not to lunch._ "Sounds great," was what he said.

"How about an Italian place? You like Italian?" asked Neal.

"Um... yeah. Yeah, that'd be fine," replied Carson. He couldn't explain why he felt the tiniest bit happy at the prospect, but then again, he couldn't even be sure that's what it even was. It could have been gas, for all he knew.

There were several more minutes of awkward silence, and then Neal spoke up. "How's, um... how's school?" he asked as he turned onto a side road.

"It's the summer holidays, Dad," replied Carson.

"Right! Right. I knew that. Um... what about girls? Hmm? You got a girlfriend?" his dad asked, and Carson almost choked on his own spit as he wondered how the fuck he was supposed to answer that question.

"No," he said at last.

"Ah, well. You're young. I mean, _I_ had plenty of girlfriends at your age, but, you know. It's never too late," Neal replied.

_Yeah, well, I don't have time for girlfriends, considering that I'm too busy sucking dick on a daily basis_, thought Carson, biting his tongue. _Specifically, your other son's dick._

They pulled into a parking space in front of an office building at last, and Carson eagerly undid his seatbelt and bolted out of the car, relieved to have something to actually do at last. He allowed his father to lead him into the building and did his best to look like a normal, well adjusted person who wasn't dressed in someone else's clothes and who didn't get freaky with his own brother on a regular basis.

_I'm such a fucked up individual, oh my god._

"Hey. Phillips!" said a guy passing them in the hallway.

"Hey, Martin," Neal replied, waving.

"This your kid?" asked Martin, smiling at Carson.

"Yep," answered Neal.

"Nice to meet you, Kurt," said Martin, grabbing Carson's hand and shaking it vigorously. "Your dad talks about you all the time."

"I'm not-" Carson began, but Martin just kept talking over him.

"He looks just like you, Neal," he said with a smile. "Already taking after his old man, huh? Aren't you, Kurt?"

"I'm actually not K-" Carson tried again, but he was interrupted by his father's hand clapping over his shoulder this time as Neal let out a huge, fake laugh.

"He sure is," his dad replied. "Gonna go into the real estate business like me, Kurt?"

_Is he fucking kidding me right now?_ thought Carson bitterly, the pieces clicking into place as he slowly began to realize exactly what the hell was going on here. _He's not going to correct this guy. He's going to let him think I'm Kurt, because Kurt is the only son who matters to him, and Kurt was the one he originally wanted to come with him today. _He felt sick to his stomach when he thought about what a fucking idiot he had been to think, even for a tiny second, that his dad wanted to actually spend time with him when all he really was to Neal was a convenient, look-alike Kurt replacement. In Kurt's clothes, for fuck's sake.

"Gee, Dad, I don't know if Kurt is going to follow in your real estate footsteps," said Carson in a fake, syrupy sweet tone. "You should probably ask _him_ and not me. Hi, Martin," he added, turning to the guy in front of them and sticking his hand out. "I'm Carson Phillips. I'm Neal's _other_ son."

"Oh," replied Martin, taking the offered hand and shaking it awkwardly. "I'm so very sorry. I didn't realize that Neal had two sons."

"I figured as much," muttered Carson. He could feel his father stiffening in embarrassment next to him. _Good. Suck it._ "He doesn't like to talk about me very much, for some reason," he continued. "I wouldn't talk about my other son either if I had spent his entire life trying to pretend that he doesn't exist."

"Oookay, we have to go," Neal said quickly, grabbing Carson firmly by the arm, hard enough that Carson could feel that there was going to be a bruise there later, and escorting him briskly down the hallway toward his office. He practically threw Carson inside and slammed the door behind them, glaring at him menacingly.

"Don't you _dare_ do anything to embarrass me further today," he snapped.

"You mean like correct people who think I'm someone else?" Carson snapped back. "Were you even going to correct that guy? Were you going to speak up and say "Oh, this isn't Kurt, this is my other kid, Carson?" Or were you just going to keep your mouth shut because you only wanted Kurt with you today and I'm just a cheap, easy substitute?"

"Carson, we had a deal," said Neal through gritted teeth.

"What deal? The money? Here, fucking take it," Carson said, reaching into his pocket and retrieving the notes Neal had slipped him that morning, throwing them in his father's face. "I don't want it."

"Listen, you little shit, I'm trying to be nice to you today," his father practically spat. "If you can't act like a normal human being, then..."

"Then what? What are you going to do, Dad? Hit me? Lock me in my room with no light bulbs in the lamps tonight like you did when I was small? Go ahead. Try it. I dare you," said Carson dangerously. "I'd love to see you try to overpower me now that I'm a hell of a lot bigger and stronger."

They stood there for a moment, eyes locked on each other, and Carson waited for his father to do or say something. Anything.

"If you're going to be an ungrateful brat, you can just sit here in the office all day," Neal said at last.

"Yeah, no. Fuck you. I'm leaving," Carson snapped. He pushed his way past his father and hurried out of the office. He sprinted down the hall and out into the parking lot, and then he started running. He ran and ran, his feet on autopilot as he mentally beat himself up for ever thinking that this day could possibly be a good idea.

_Goddammit, I'm such a fucking idiot. SUCH a FUCKING idiot. He never wanted to spend time with me. He'll never want that. He'll never want me. Neither of them do. Only Kurt. Kurt wants me. Kurt and Grandma, and that's all. That's all I have, and that's all I need._

He wasn't sure when he realized that his feet were taking him to the assisted living home. He didn't really think at all until he was inside the building and making his way down the familiar hallways toward Grandma's room. He figured at the very least he could vent his frustrations to her, even if she would have no idea who he was or why he was upset. It was better that way, he thought.

To his surprise, he was not Grandma's only visitor. Kurt looked up from the magazine he'd been looking through as Carson walked in the door, giving him a strange look.

"Carson? Why are you here?" he asked, sounding concerned. "What about Dad?"

"Dad's a... Dad didn't work out," Carson corrected himself, not wanting to swear in front of Grandma. He didn't want to get into details with Kurt, either. It would be even more humiliating than it already had been.

"You remind me of my grandson," Grandma spoke up, looking quizzically at Carson.

"I do, huh?" said Carson, smiling at her. "Why's that?"

"You're sad looking," she replied. "Just like him."

"Ah, well. Your grandson and I have that in common, I guess," said Carson.

Kurt put down his magazine and crossed over to Carson, gently leading him out of the room and into the hallway. "Talk to me, baby. Are you ok?" he asked softly, taking one of Carson's hands in his and rubbing his thumb across the knuckles. "What happened with Dad? What did he do?"

"I'm fine, Kurt. Really. I just... I decided that the whole thing was stupid," said Carson.

"But-"

"Kurt, I don't want to talk about it, ok?" said Carson. "Let's just... do you want to get out of here and do something?"

Kurt looked at him carefully for a moment before nodding. "Yeah. Yeah, ok. Let's get out of here," he said, taking Carson by the hand and leading him down the hall. Carson felt slightly bad about leaving Grandma like that, but then he remembered that she didn't even know who either of them were.

"Life is shit," he said once he and Kurt were out on the street.

"I know, honey," said Kurt. "You wanna go "shopping?"

"Fucking bring it on," replied Carson.

* * *

Several hours later, the twins made their way back to the empty house, bogged down with many pounds worth of stolen merchandise as they headed upstairs. They dumped their treasures on Kurt's desk and collapsed together on his bed, their lips drawn together as if by magnets as they kissed slowly and tenderly.

"Mmm," murmured Kurt, darting his tongue out to lick at Carson's bottom lip. "You taste good."

"I taste like disappointment and shame," quipped Carson.

"Heeey," Kurt admonished him. "No, you don't."

"What do I taste like, then?"

"Sugar and butter," replied Kurt, kissing him again before wrapping his arms around him and settling himself so that he and Carson were laying down face to face. Carson leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Kurt's neck before sighing and settling his head against his twin's chest, basking in the comforting feeling of being held. He felt so safe in Kurt's arms, even though he would never say that out loud. He didn't think he had to, anyway. Kurt could probably feel it, judging by the way Kurt held him tighter and gently kissed the top of his hair.

"You ok?" he asked quietly. Carson nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied. He leaned his head up, catching Kurt's lips in his own and kissing him softly. He could feel Kurt kissing him back eagerly, the slide of their lips against each other sending shivers down Carson's spine as their kissing slowly grew more intense and desperate. It wasn't very long before tongues were involved, each of them exploring the other's mouth as Carson felt himself being pulled on top of Kurt.

"Eager, aren't you?" said Carson, moving his lips over to nip at the skin beneath Kurt's ear.

"Always," replied Kurt, gasping as Carson went to town on his neck. "God, I love it when you do that."

"I know," said Carson cheekily, making his way down Kurt's jaw with tiny pecks until he reached the spot where Kurt's neck met his shoulder. He gave him an experimental nip with his teeth, and was rewarded with a loud moan from his twin.

"Biting is a thing for you, isn't it?" asked Carson, repeating the action to hear the delightful sound again.

"Apparently so," replied Kurt. "Uuungh... fuck... wait, let's lose the clothes." He gently pushed Carson off of him, and the two of them wasted no time stripping out of their clothing, although Carson needed a fair share of help.

"How the fuck do you undo all the buttons on this thing?" he complained, gesturing helplessly to his borrowed pants.

"You're such a _boy_," Kurt said with a sigh, helping him with expert, nimble fingers. "They aren't that difficult."

"They are when you're hard as a rock and ready to burst out of them," muttered Carson.

"Shut up," said Kurt. He had Carson out of the pants in no time, and soon enough Carson was back on top of Kurt and they were making out once more, now wearing nothing but their underwear.

"Mmm," Carson moaned, his fingers caressing every inch of creamy, soft skin he could reach as his hands explored Kurt's chest. He had no idea how his twin got his skin to be so soft, but he really fucking liked it. He reached for Kurt's legs and wrapped then around his waist, grinding his crotch into Kurt's and moaning at the sensation of their underwear-clad erections sliding against each other.

"Fuck," he gasped out, shivering when he felt soft fingers running down the length of his back. "What are we doing today?" he asked giving the other side of Kurt's neck a suck. "Shall I blow you first? Or you blow me? Or I just stay on top of you forever because holy shit," he added, grinding desperately against Kurt and chasing the delicious friction.

"Carson, um," said Kurt, gasping between words as he bucked his hips up to meet Carson's. "What if we... would you want to..." He trailed off looking up into Carson's eyes and biting his lip as Carson looked back at him, confused.

"Want to what?" he asked. Kurt looked at him for a second, and then he reached one arm to the side, expertly opening his night stand drawer one-handed and rooting around for a few seconds before retrieving two items, which he help up for Carson's inspection.

"Kurt, Carson breathed, his eyes widening as he looked at the condom and tiny bottle of lube in his twin's hand. "I... are you... do you really want...?"

Kurt answered him by surging up to collide their lips together, pulling Carson as close as possible as he kissed him hungrily. "I want it," he whispered in his ear. "I want you."

"Oh my fuck," said Carson, kissing him back as he took the items from Kurt's hand and began making his way down his twin's neck and chest with his mouth, stopping every few inches to plant a new kiss on the exposed skin. He licked his way down Kurt's stomach, stopping at his belly button and pressing his palm against the straining bulge in his twin's underwear.

"Hrrng," Kurt moaned, throwing his head back and bucking his hips up unto Carson's hand. "Take them ooooff," he whined.

"I'm getting there," said Carson, hooking his fingers into the waistband of Kurt's underwear and quickly pulling them down and off, tossing them behind him. He took a moment to just gaze at the absolute heaven that was a completely nude Kurt writhing and squirming underneath him with a flushed, perfect erection that advertised the fact that he was just waiting to be ravished, and Carson swallowed hard as it hit him that that was exactly what he was about to do.

_Don't think, Carson. Don't fucking think. Just do_, he admonished himself. He tentatively reached out a hand and gave Kurt's dick a few gentle strokes before he trailed his fingers down his balls and settled them slightly further down, pressing against the prize.

"Mmm," Kurt moaned, pressing himself back against Carson's hand, and Carson gulped, looking from his hand to Kurt's face and then back again.

"Kurt, are you actually sure that-"

"Carson, for god's sake, yes! I want to have sex with you, and I want to do it now," said Kurt. "If _you_ want to, that is."

That was all the encouragement Carson needed. He leaned up to kiss Kurt, and then he resumed the task at hand. He reached for the lube bottle, carefully uncapping it and squeezing some onto his fingers.

"Hold that thought," Kurt said. He ran out of the room completely nude, and returned two seconds later, carrying a towel from the bathroom, which he spread over the top of the bedspread.

"This could get messy," he said, climbing back onto the bed. Carson barely heard him. He was still experimenting with the lube.

"It's cold," he said aloud, and Kurt chuckled.

"You're supposed to warm it up," he said with an amused smile.

"I know that," Carson muttered. He rubbed his fingers together to warm the lube up before gently pressing one slick finger up against Kurt's hole. He didn't do much except press, but Kurt gasped anyway. He'd watched enough porn and read enough articles on anal sex online to know what he was supposed to do, but he was hesitant to actually do it.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said quietly.

"You won't, honey," Kurt assured him. He settled back against the pillows and spread his legs, resting one hand on his chest and the other behind his head. "Go on."

Carson hesitated only a moment longer before finally plucking up his courage and slowly, so very slowly so as not to cause Kurt even the slightest bit of pain, began pressing one finger inside of him.

"Oh my god," he whispered. Kurt was overwhelmingly tight and warm around his finger, and Carson couldn't help but think that it his _finger_ felt like this, then his dick was going to just...

"Oh my _GOD_," he repeated, gently sliding his finger in and out of Kurt, watching it disappear into him again and again. He was mesmerized. He forgot all about his horrible morning, and about how much of an asshole his father was, and how he was always going to be the unwanted child. All he cared about was here and now, and Kurt writhing under him, pushing himself down on his finger. All he cared about was how gorgeous Kurt looked, how the early afternoon sun streaming through the cracks in the blinds was dancing on his face and giving him an ethereal sort of glow.

All he cared about right now was how close he felt to another human being. And how wonderful a feeling that was.

"Put another one in," Kurt begged him after a few moments of this. "Please."

Carson obliged, sliding another finger in beside the first and slowly scissoring them inside of Kurt, feeling the tight opening slowly stretching from his ministrations. He still didn't see how he was going to fit a whole dick in there, though.

"Can... can you handle three?" he asked Kurt after a few more minutes, and Kurt bit his lip, nodding.

"Yeah... yeah, but go slow, ok?"

"Ok," Carson agreed. He lubed his fingers up more and then very carefully worked in three fingers, thrusting them in and out of Kurt's opening as his twin moaned and pushed down, trying desperately to fuck himself on Carson's fingers. Carson felt his dick practically bursting out of his underwear, and he couldn't wait anymore. He had to get inside of Kurt as soon as possible.

"Are you ready?" he whispered, and Kurt nodded, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he leaned up to kiss Carson hungrily.

"Fuck me," he whispered in Carson's ear, and Carson wasted no more time. He pulled his fingers out of Kurt, wiping them on the towel and yanking his own underwear down. He grabbed for the condom, unwrapping it with his teeth and clumsily rolling it into his throbbing erection before pouring a generous amount of lube onto it and slicking it up. Kurt pulled him down for another kiss, and then Carson was carefully lining himself up with Kurt's entrance, hesitating for a minute as he realized what he was about to do.

"I..." he began, but trailed off, unsure how to finish that sentence. He decided not to, and pulled Kurt's legs up around his waist before he began slowly sinking his length into Kurt's tight heat.

"Uuuungh," Kurt moaned, grasping onto Carson's shoulders tightly and screwing his eyes shut. "Ungh, slowly, please."

"Are you ok?" Carson asked, freezing immediately and looking down at him with concern. "Does it hurt? I can pull out..."

"NO!" Kurt exclaimed. "No, I just... you're fucking huge... just... take it very slow, ok?"

"O...ok," Carson said. He leaned down to kiss Kurt tenderly, being careful to only push himself in inch by inch until he was finally fully sheathed inside of him. He didn't think there would ever be adequate words to describe how it felt. It felt a million times better than Kurt's mouth ever had, which was certainly saying something, because Kurt's mouth was heaven. He almost forgot what to do after he was inside. He lay perfectly still like that for a few moments, just enjoying the feeling and wondering if he had somehow died and gone to some kind of fucked up heaven.

"Are you ever planning on moving, or am I going to have to fuck myself on your dick?" asked Kurt after a while, breaking Carson's reverie.

"Are you ok for me to move now?" he asked, and Kurt nodded eagerly.

"Yes. God, yes. Do it!" he ordered. Carson took a deep breath and slowly pulled almost all the way back out, leaving only the swollen head of his dick inside to keep Kurt stretched. He plunged back in, and the moan Kurt let out was absolutely sinful. He felt a shiver go through him as he began fucking into Kurt, slowly at first and then a bit faster until he'd picked up a steady pace, moving Kurt up the mattress with every excited thrust. Kurt was moaning loudly, and Carson hoped to god that their mother was still out doing whatever the fuck she was doing, because he was pretty sure half the neighborhood could hear Kurt's cries of ecstasy, not to mention the rhythmic squeaking of mattress springs and moans of pleasure from Carson.

"Harder!" Kurt screamed, pushing himself down to meet Carson's increasing rhythm. "Harder, harder... oh _fuck_," he moaned, digging his nails into the skin of Carson's back. "Fuck, fuck, fuck... _fuuuuuuuck_," he wailed, and Carson felt a twitching beneath him as Kurt's dick pulsed and shot something very warm and wet against the skin of Carson's stomach.

"Uuuuuh," he groaned, losing all conscious thought as Kurt clenched around him. His orgasm hit him suddenly, like a freight train, and he swore he blacked out for a minute or two as he buried his face in Kurt's neck and rode it out and desperately gasped for breath.

After it was over, neither of them moved for a very long time. Carson didn't know about Kurt, but he himself _couldn't_ move. It was physically impossible. All he was capable of doing was laying there on top of Kurt, breathing hard and feeling the beads of sweat collecting on his forehead as he struggled to regain some sort of coherent thought.

"Fuck," Kurt breathed out eventually.

"Yeah," agreed Carson. "Fuck." He gently pulled out of Kurt, removing the condom and tying it off before tossing it in the general direction of the trash bin.

"Are you ok?" he asked Kurt, laying down beside him and looking carefully into his face for any sign of regret.

"I'm more than ok," replied Kurt, turning to kiss him. "I'm wonderful."

"Really?"

"Mmm-hmm," said Kurt. "That was all I could have asked for and more from my first time."

Carson felt his heart skip a beat as he processed what Kurt had said. "Your _what_?"

"My first time," repeated Kurt.

"Wait a minute," Carson said, sitting up and staring at Kurt with wide eyes. "You mean I... you... you let _me_... but..."

"Well, yeah," said Kurt, looking confused. "Are you seriously telling me that you thought I wasn't a virgin? Jesus Christ, Carson, what kind of guy do you take me for?"

"No, it's not that, I just... I... whenever we did new things, you were always so... so knowledgeable and seemed so experienced..." Carson stammered.

"It's called porn, Carson," said Kurt with an eye roll. "And practicing blowjob skills on bananas and cucumbers. Although, I have to admit, it took me a while to be comfortable watching _those_ movies. I couldn't get past thinking about their poor mothers."

Carson felt himself blushing at the thought of Kurt watching porn. "I just... I don't know what I thought, but... you wanted _me_ to pop your cherry?"

"Yeah, I guess I did," Kurt answered with an amused smile. "Consider my virginity your belated birthday present."

Carson snorted. "And mine is yours, then."

"Great. Matching gifts," Kurt said, pulling Carson back down into a rough kiss. "Now, how long do I have to wait before we go into round two?"

* * *

After that day, there was pretty much no going back for the twins. Carson didn't know what the hell to call their weird relationship, and he didn't care. Sex became a daily and nightly routine, squeezed in whenever and wherever they could get away with it. Carson took to carrying lube and condoms around with him at all times, because Kurt was pretty much a sex monster now and you really never knew when he was going to decide he was horny. Carson always had to be prepared to be jumped and shoved into the nearest closet, or against the nearest table, or the nearest flat surface. No place was safe, not even the tent the two of them shared during one eventful weekend camping trip with Santana, Seth, and a few other people Carson had never met before and couldn't care less about. Carson had kind of hoped that they would take a break for that, especially considering that Santana had taken one look at them when she picked them up in her car and smirked.

"You two have totally fucked," she announced gleefully, and both boys had instantly turned tomato red.

"Shut up, Satan, we have not," Kurt snapped at her.

"Oh? Well both of you have definitely fucked someone recently. I can tell. And I'm pretty sure it was each other, because my psychic Mexican third eye is never wrong," she replied.

"Mind your own damn business, Santana," Carson muttered.

The booze had started flowing on the first night, and when he and Kurt were the last ones left awake, Carson knew it wasn't going to take much to get them going. Sure enough, before Carson knew what the hell was happening, Kurt was dragging him into their tent and straddling him, with his lips devouring Carson's.

"Want you to fuck me," he announced in a slurred voice, hooking his fingers into the bottom of Carson's T-shirt and pulling it up and off. "Want you to just have your way with me, ok?"

Carson didn't even protest. He and Kurt were both naked in record time, and he wasted no time pushing Kurt onto his hands and knees and preparing his dick with a condom and lube.

"You have to be quiet," he whispered. "Seriously, you have to rein in the screaming."

"I will, I will, just get in me... _OH_!" Kurt squealed when Carson buried himself inside. He grabbed hold of Kurt's hips with his hands and began rocking into him, pulling Kurt's body onto himself to meet his rhythm.

"Uh... uh... fuck... fuuuck... _FUUUUCK_..." Kurt moaned, his volume increasing with every thrust. Carson panicked, reaching one hand around to clap over Kurt's mouth as he continued fucking into him.

"You seriously can't hold it in, can you?" he whispered into his ear, draping his body over Kurt's back and thrusting as hard as he could while keeping his hand pressed firmly against his twin's mouth. Kurt moaned, the sound muffled by Carson's hand as they moved in tandem, and Carson sincerely hoped everyone was either asleep or drunk off their ass and didn't realize what they were hearing. He thrust into Kurt several more times and then came with a low moan, collapsing on top of Kurt as he weakly let go of his mouth and reached his hand in front of him, grabbing hold of Kurt's dick and stroking him until Kurt pulsed and came over his hand.

"We're gonna have to see about getting you a ball gag," Carson whispered into the darkness as they went about cleaning themselves up and fixing their clothes.

"Wanky," came a familiar voice from just outside the tent, and Carson felt his face flushing a deep scarlet red as Kurt sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Go away, Santana!" he hissed.

"You got room for a third person in there?" she asked. "I want some."

"I said go awaaaay!"

* * *

The first day of school arrived much too quickly for Carson's liking. He was usually stifled by school anyway, but now he had a feeling it was going to be absolute torture. He didn't want any part of a schedule that didn't allow for at least one hot sex session per day.

_Fucking Year 11 is going to be such a cockblock_, he thought irritably on the first morning of classes as he lay in bed and waited for Kurt to come wake him up. On the other hand, he thought, it would be a relief to be out of the house for the whole day and not have to listen to his mother's drunken tirades. She had taken to drinking a lot more over the summer as their father started working longer and longer hours (or so he said), and Carson was, frankly, getting more than a little tired of hearing her tearfully reminisce about what a difficult baby he had been.

"Wake up Carsey," said Kurt, bounding into his bedroom like a fireball and throwing himself onto the bed. "We've got school today."

"The fuck are you so happy about?" grumbled Carson. "It's school, not the circus."

"Poor baby sounds so cranky," teased Kurt. "You should get more than two hours of sleep a night, you know."

"How'd you guess?"

"Oh. cheer up. We can have our fun tonight," Kurt whispered, licking Carson's ear before getting up and running out of the room.

It was a long morning, and Carson was already exhausted by the time he and Kurt had set off for school. He hoped his first class would be something boring so he could space out and sleep a little.

"Hello, boys," said Santana cheerfully, giving them a huge smile as they walked up to her in their usual meeting spot. "Have a fun night?"

"Fuck off, Santana," Carson snapped. "What we do at night is none of your business."

"Just asking," she replied with a shrug. "You know, if you were to release a sex tape, I'd totally-"

"_Santana_!" Carson hissed. "Shut the fuck up before I yank out your hair extensions!"

"Well, well, well," said a voice from behind him. "That's exactly the same Carson I used to know when we were kids. He didn't have that extensive of a vocabulary at the time, though."

All three of them turned to see who had spoken. It was a tall guy with light brown hair and green eyes that glinted with mischief, and it took Carson a moment to figure out why he was so familiar.

"Sebastian?" he asked, the name suddenly swimming to the front of his memory. "Sebastian Smythe?"

"So you _do_ remember me," said Sebastian with a grin. "Excellent. I was afraid I'd have to remind you of all those times we spent making mud pies as kids."

"What are you doing here?" asked Carson, smiling a little. Sebastian had been one of his and Kurt's best friends when they were younger, until the beginning of Year 2 when he and his family had moved away. The twins hadn't heard from him in years, and now here he was, standing right in front of them in the flesh.

"We've just come back from Paris," replied Sebastian. "I almost didn't enroll at this school, though. I can't really stand the stench of public school after having spent so many years in French prep schools, but I thought it might be an interesting experience."

"Ah, well. This school sucks, but you get used to it," said Carson. "It's good to see you again..." He trailed off when he realized that Sebastian wasn't even paying attention to him at the moment. He was too busy staring at Kurt, and Carson wasn't sure he liked the way Kurt was looking back.

"So," said Kurt, a smile spreading across his face as he looked Sebastian up and down. "Paris, hmm? France has been very, very good to you."

Sebastian's grin grew wider as his eyes raked slowly up and down Kurt's body. "I could say the same for you. You're definitely not a little boy anymore."

"That I'm not," said Kurt. "Vous êtes devenu beau."

Carson had no idea what the hell that meant, but he was pretty sure he did _not_ like it. Especially not when Sebastian laughed and answered back, "Vous n'avez pas eu ce beau cul la dernière fois que je t'ai vu."

"Uh, hello?" Carson said irritably while Kurt giggled and blushed. "English speaker only here?"

"So sorry, Carson," said Sebastian. "I'll strive to be more considerate. Tell me, what's the morning routine here?"

"Oh, let us show you around!" said Kurt, looping his arm through Sebastian's and leading him into the building. Carson rolled his eyes and grabbed Santana by the arm, dragging her along as he followed them. It was going to be an interesting year, that was for sure.

_I don't have the right to be jealous or anything_, he reminded himself. _Kurt and I aren't really an exclusive thing, right? I mean... well... I kind of wish we were, but I'm not even sure what he considers us to be, and... Jesus must everything be so complicated ALL the time?_

* * *

English translations for Kurtbastian's conversation:

Kurt says "You became hot." Sebastian replies with "You didn't have that nice ass the last time I saw you."


	6. Chapter 6

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Pleeeeeease don't throw stones at us! We know this chapter is super duper late, and we're very, very sorry. It was meant to be finished by Monday, but you can blame the PCA voting and a shirtless Chris sex riot for causing it to be delayed by four extra days. *Hangs head in shame* We promise, it won't happen again. :) **

***Whispers* Let's read**

The rest of the morning didn't get any better from there, although Carson tried to tell himself that he was just being stupid. When he looked at it logically, there was really no reason at all to feel so jealous of Kurt and Sebastian flirting with each other. After all, Kurt was naturally a flirty person, especially within the past year or so. He was just doing what he always did. And as for Sebastian, well... how the hell was Sebastian supposed to even know that he and Kurt were a thing? Whatever that "thing" may have been? For all Sebastian knew, Kurt was available.

_Maybe, but it still sucks big, hairy balls._

"So, boys," said Sebastian as they walked down the hall toward the gymnasium for the annual first day of school debriefing, where the headmaster generally told them what the school rules were, as if anyone gave a shit. "Aside from both of you becoming devastatingly handsome, especially Kurt, how has life been treating you since last we spoke?"

Carson wondered if he wanted an honest answer to that one. _Oh, well, you know. Dad is still a jackass, Mom still lets him be one, pretty much everybody shits on me every time I turn around, and I'm in a confusing, sexual relationship with my twin brother, whose ass you are shamelessly eyeballing right now. That ass is mine. I own that ass...I think._

"Same old shit," he settled on saying as he shrugged his shoulders. "Honestly, not much has changed since we were kids, except now we're taller."

"And sexier. Don't forget sexier," Sebastian said with a wink in Kurt's direction. Carson managed to refrain from scowling as Kurt blushed, his cheeks turning the distinct shade of pink they always turned when he was complimented on his looks.

"So, I take it that you and Kurt both swing for Le Team Gay," Santana said cheerfully, and Carson finally remembered he had been gripping her arm as she yanked it free from his grasp.

Sebastian chuckled. "You could say that," he replied, his eyes twinkling as he smiled at Santana. "Let's just say that most of the guys in Paris between the ages of sixteen and thirty are familiar with my name." He glanced over at Kurt and smiled wider, flashing a set of perfectly straight, white teeth. "I'll have to formulate a plan to gain the same respect and notoriety here in Bristol."

"I think that's nice," said Santana, her voice dripping in fake enthusiasm. "Isn't that _nice_, Carson?" she said, flashing him a smile as Kurt's blushed increased and he ran a hand through his hair.

"Wonderful," Carson murmured as they finally reached the gymnasium doors. "Come on, let's get this stupid assembly over with." He looped his arm through Kurt's and led him toward their usual seats in the back, where Seth was already sitting and looking confused as Malerie filled him in on what Carson could only assume was a new writing project.

"And then this tornado comes, and it picks up the girl's house and spirits her away to a magical land," she was saying as Carson and Kurt took their seats to Seth's left. "And there's a pair of silver shoes with really cool powers, and-"

"That's _The Wizard of Oz_, Malerie," said Carson with a sigh. "How was your summer?"

"It was ok," said Malerie with a sigh, and Carson gripped Kurt's arm a little bit tighter as Sebastian and Santana caught up to them and filled out the rest of their group's bench. "You caught me. I copied _The Wizard of Oz_ because I still have no writing skills of my own."

"Yes, well, if you want to work on that, you should help me overhaul the Writers' Club," said Carson. "This is going to be the year I drum up interest in writing in these sad little automatons that attend this school, I swear to God."

"Ok," she agreed happily.

"Speaking of clubs, is there a chorus or a show choir or something at this school?" asked Sebastian.

"There is!" replied Kurt eagerly, leaning over Carson to smile at the other boy. "I'm in it. You should join!"

"I hate to brag, but at my school in France, I was basically one of the top stars of our show choir," said Sebastian.

"Seriously, you should audition," said Kurt. "We need fresh blood, anyway."

"I definitely will," said Sebastian.

"Yay," Carson mumbled under his breath. Kurt must have heard, because he gave Carson a small smile and patted him gently on the shoulder, as if to reassure him.

Thankfully, the headmaster entered then and began his usual start-of-year speech, which was basically the same as it had been the year before.

_No sex in the lavatories, no smoking on school grounds, no vandalism, no fighting, no dress code violations_, Carson rattled off in his head as he waited impatiently for the assembly to end. _We get it, and we'll do our best to break each and every rule, we promise._

Apparently, the world was, as usual, against Carson, because when he received his schedule after the assembly, it turned out that he had maths as his first class,

"Son of a bitch," he groaned as he shoved his schedule into his jacket pocket. "Why can't I have an easy morning class?"

"If it makes you feel any better, we're both in that class," said Kurt.

"Slightly," replied Carson.

"We don't have to go," Kurt mused, folding his schedule up neatly and tucking it into one of the many small, zipped compartments in his messenger bag.

"We don't?" said Carson, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Nope," replied Kurt, giving Carson a mischievous grin. "We could skip it. I have a few things in my bag that we could get a lot more use out of than our math books, if you get my meaning." He reached into the same compartment he had slipped his schedule into and took out a small, foil package, which he wiggled between his fingers as he showed it to Carson with a grin.

"Fuck," Carson breathed as he realized what Kurt meant, looking around to make sure no one was watching. Thankfully, Sebastian had gone in search of his first class, and the rest of their friends were nowhere in sight.

"Yes, that's the idea," Kurt said, hiding the condom in his palm and grabbing Carson by the arm. "Come on," he said with a grin, pulling Carson down the hallway, away from the direction of their maths classroom. They ran up a flight of stairs and down several more hallways until they had reached a significantly less densely populated area of the school, which housed several barely used classrooms and a storage closet. Carson assumed Kurt would drag him into a classroom, but instead he found himself being shoved into the storage closet as Kurt kicked the door closed behind them and pinned him up against a wall.

"Kurt, what the- mmmph." Carson didn't finish his sentence, because his mouth had suddenly been taken over by a pair of soft lips, and he gasped into the kiss when he felt teeth nipping at his bottom lip. He shivered despite the warmth of the hands that had started exploring underneath his hoodie as his own hand began traveling down Kurt's back to rest on his ass.

"Got all hot and bothered from your shameless flirting with Mr. I'm So French, have you?" he whispered, only half teasing as he gave Kurt a small swat on the ass.

"Oh, shut up," Kurt replied indignantly as he placed kisses down Carson's jawline. "So I thought Sebastian grew up nice. Big deal. He _did_. I'm not blind or dead, you know."

"Yeah," said Carson, throwing his head back so that Kurt had easier access to the sensitive spot beneath his jaw.

"Besides," Kurt added, "I do believe it's _you_ I'm currently having an illicit encounter with in a closet, yes?"

"We could get caught," Carson whispered, letting a small giggle escape as Kurt's fingers lightly brushed against his ribs, tickling him a little.

"By who?" asked Kurt. "Hardly anyone ever uses this wing. The classrooms are used maybe once or twice a week at the most, and I happen to know for certain that this particular closet hasn't been in regular use since about 1995."

"How in the hell do you even know all of that?" asked Carson, amazed.

"I do my research," replied Kurt, crashing their lips back together. The smallness of the closet they were in meant that their bodies were pressed very close, and Carson felt himself growing very hot under his clothes. Not to mention very hard as Kurt's thigh brushed up against the front of his jeans.

"Isn't this a lot more fun than maths?" Kurt asked cheekily, parting from the kiss and moving his lips over to Carson's neck as he palmed him over his pants.

"Shut up," groaned Carson. He turned them around, pinning Kurt up against the wall and knocking down several sheets of old copy paper in the process. His hands fumbled with the button at the top of Kurt's pants, and he said a silent prayer of thanks that his twin had worn a pair that wasn't overrun with complicated clasps and zippers. He managed to get them pulled down in record time as Kurt's skilled fingers worked him out of his jeans and underwear, and it suddenly hit Carson that Kurt wasn't wearing any.

"Don't you ever wear underwear?" he asked, nipping behind Kurt's ear with his teeth.

"Not... _ah..._ not generally," Kurt answered, gasping at the contact with Carson's lips. "The lines would show through the pants, and-" He interrupted his own sentence with a squeal as Carson grabbed him around the waist and bent him over a stack of boxes in the corner of the closet. He draped himself over Kurt's back, palming the globes of his ass with his hands as he whispered in his ear.

"Be a good boy and stay there," he said, and Kurt shivered and nodded.

"Lube's in my bag," he replied. "The inside zip compartment." Carson nodded, reaching into Kurt's bag and finding the lube tucked beside a package of wet wipes and a handful of condoms. He grabbed a foil package along with the lube and wasted no time drizzling some over his fingers, quickly working one inside Kurt, who let out a stifled moan.

"Fuuuuuuck," Kurt groaned as Carson worked his way up to three fingers, making sure to press once or twice against the spot he had learned would reduce Kurt to a quivering mess. "Just get in me already, would you?"

"Eager boy," Carson said with a grin. He pulled his fingers out and ripped open the condom package with his teeth, sliding the latex over himself and coating it with a layer of lube. "Ready?" he asked as he got himself into position behind Kurt, who looked back at him with an indignant expression.

"No, I'm over here begging for it because I want you to have tea and read the paper with me," he snapped sarcastically. "Just get on with... _oh_!" he moaned as Carson slowly slid himself inside. He didn't bother to be slow or gentle after that, having recognized the urgency in Kurt's tone that generally meant "Fuck me hard and fast." Which was precisely what Carson did. Honestly, he loved it like this. The desperation as he thrust in and out, the delicious little sounds coming out of Kurt's mouth as he rocked his hips back to meet Carson's rhythm. They were so in tune with each other, it actually kind of mystified Carson a little. It was almost as though they had been born to do this, and Carson might have actually thought that, except for the fact that it seemed pretty stupid to believe that.

"Faster," moaned Kurt, and Carson obeyed, rocking into him at an increased pace as he felt an orgasm fast approaching. He planted his hands on either side of Kurt's ass and pulled him forward, thrusting into him several more times before he bit his lip to stifle the roar that almost escaped as he came so hard he almost blacked out. He managed to work one hand in front of Kurt, wrapping his fist around his twin's erection and stroking him until he felt Kurt pulse in his hand and come, his muscles contracting around Carson where he was still buried inside of him.

Carson didn't move for a moment. All he could do was stay draped over Kurt's back, his chest heaving with the effort to draw in breath as Kurt panted beneath him, both of them too winded and exhausted to do much of anything. Carson finally managed to pull out and take care of the condom after a while, reaching into Kurt's bag for the wet wipes and handing some to Kurt.

"In answer your question earlier, yes," said Carson as he cleaned himself up and fixed his pants. "This was _way_ more fun than sitting in maths."

"I told you," Kurt grinned, sorting out his clothes and reaching into his bag for a pocket mirror, which he help up to his face as he began to fix his hair. "Although, we shouldn't make this a habit. I need a decent grade in that class."

"Well, it was _your_ idea," Carson said. He cracked the closet door open and carefully peered out to make sure that there weren't any errant teachers or students who would see them emerging and put two and two together. "Coast is clear," he announced, and opened the door all the way. "I'll see you at lunch then, shall I?"

"Maybe we can break that school rule about sex in the bathrooms," said Kurt with a wink. "Or, at least, blowjobs in the bathrooms."

"Jesus."

* * *

Aside from seeing Kurt at lunch (during which they did, indeed, break the school rule against sex in the bathrooms), the rest of the day was very stressful indeed for Carson. He was so worn out by the end of the day that he didn't even bother to try hanging out in the journalism classroom to see if he could get any takers for the Writers' Club while Kurt attended the year's first glee club practice. He didn't even go to Grandma's. He went straight home after his last class, bogged down by the thought of all the homework that had been assigned to him already.

_For fuck's sake, it's only the first day_, he thought as he kicked a rock down the street. _Would it really kill them to give us a bit of a breather before they go shoving assignments down our throats?_ He wondered if Sebastian had showed up to audition for the glee club that afternoon. He'd told Carson he was going to when they were attending their world history class together after lunch. Carson wondered if it made him strange to hope that maybe the other boy had forgotten. Not that he was _jealous_, or anything, but... well, he didn't exactly relish the idea of Sebastian and Kurt singing together in any capacity. Not if they were going to stare at each other's asses the whole time.

_Ugh, just come off it, Carson_, he chastised himself as he walked up the Phillips' drive. _So what if they flirt a bit? We've been over this, they have every right to flirt._ He reached into his pocket for his house key, but was surprised to see that the door swung open as soon as he touched it. It was only then that he realized that his mother's car was in the driveway. He'd been so caught up in his thoughts before he hadn't even noticed.

_Probably drunk off her ass, I'm sure_, he thought, walking into the kitchen and setting his bag on a chair while he looked for something to eat.

"Is that you, Kurt?" he heard her voice call out, and sure enough, she sounded as though she'd spent the last three hours knee deep in booze.

"No, Mother, it's the Prime Minister," he mumbled, opening the refrigerator and taking out a can of soda as Sheryl stumbled into the kitchen, glaring at him.

"Oh, it's you," she said. "I thought it was your brother."

"Sorry to disappoint you," Carson mumbled. He grabbed his bag and made to go upstairs, but his mother's hand gripping his shoulder stopped him.

"I found a condom in your trash bin today," she slurred, and Carson's heart skipped several beats as he shrugged himself away from her.

"So what?" he snapped defensively. He honestly hadn't known that his mother even bothered to go into his room during the day. _Thank fuck I always take the precaution to hide my weed. _He usually was more careful with the condoms that he and Kurt used, but apparently he had forgotten to give his trash bin a once over before he left for school that day.

"So I don't approve of you fucking in my house," replied Sheryl. "I don't care what you do anywhere else, but you'll not bring your trashy whores in here, do you understand me?"

"I assure you, mum, I've never once fucked a trashy whore in this house," Carson replied brightly, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible.

"And if you get someone pregnant, don't come crying to us," Sheryl added.

"Well, Mother, see, that's the thing about condoms," Carson said patiently. "They're sort of designed to make sure that doesn't happen."

"You see that it doesn't, or you'll end up with a kid you never wanted," said Sheryl, reaching into the fridge and taking out a beer. "Trust me, I know all about that."

"Yes, well," said Carson, rolling his eyes as he started for the stairs. "I promise that you don't even have to worry about that. I know for a fact that it's not going to happen.

"If it hadn't been twins..." he heard her mutter under her breath as he bounded up the stairs and into his room, throwing his bag down on his desk chair. At this point in his life, he was barely even phased by the way his parents blatantly let him know how much he had never been wanted. Especially not now that he had been burned one time too many after daring to hope that they might change their minds one day. It wasn't ever going to happen, and Carson had come to accept this as fact.

_Which is why I need to make sure I get into a good university, so that I can move as far away from them as possible in a few years,_ he reminded himself, dragging his books out of his bag and spreading them out on his floor to start his homework. _Even if that does involve slogging through maths._

He worked studiously throughout the afternoon, losing himself in the rigor of schoolwork. He rather liked doing homework most of the time, even if the subjects sometimes bored him. He found comfort in being neat and organized. There was something immensely satisfying about the way a neat notebook page full of evenly spaced, painstakingly handwritten writing looked, and he took pride in making his assignments pretty to look at. He supposed the neatness of his work sort of made up for the fact that he had a bit of a tendency to argue with his teachers, hence the reason why he still made high marks.

At any rate, it distracted him from his life, so that was at least a plus.

"Look at my busy little bee," came Kurt's voice from the doorway, and Carson looked up in surprise, blinking over at his clock, which told him that he had been working for two hours without even noticing the passing time.

"I hate when you call me that," Carson mumbled, even though it wasn't true. He liked Kurt's various names for him, but admitting it seemed like something he just couldn't bring himself to do.

"Oh, you love it. I didn't see you after school today," said Kurt, entering the room and plopping down beside Carson on the floor. "Didn't you stay to do the writing club?"

"Not today," replied Carson. "I was tired."

"Mum's passed out drunk downstairs," said Kurt, leaning his chin on Carson's shoulder. "I passed her on the couch and she still had the beer bottle in her hand. The drinking's getting worse."

"I'm aware," answered Carson stonily. "I met her on my way in." He didn't bother telling Kurt about the condom. He figured it would be pointless to worry him when it wasn't even an issue anyway.

"Oh," said Kurt quietly. They sat in silence for several seconds until Kurt cleared his throat and spoke again. "I ran into Sebastian again this afternoon. He came to audition for glee club."

"That's nice," murmured Carson, keeping his eyes focused on his notebook.

"Yeah, he said that we should come over to his house sometime," Kurt continued. "He has a pool and a screening room and all sorts of cool shit."

"Great," said Carson, trying and failing to sound even a little bit excited at this prospect.

"What's wrong?" asked Kurt, rubbing his fingers up and down Carson's arm. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, Kurt, really," Carson insisted, turning to his twin and giving him a soft kiss on the lips. "Like I said, I'm just tired. I think I'll nap a bit now that I've just about finished my homework."

"Hmm," Kurt murmured, biting his lip and looking at Carson uncertainly. "Well, ok. If you're sure you aren't sick."

"I'm sure," said Carson. "I just kissed you. I wouldn't do that if I thought I was sick."

Kurt snorted. "True," he said, leaning in to kiss Carson back. "Get some sleep, baby. Shall I tuck you in?" he asked cheekily.

"No, I think I can manage," said Carson with an eye roll. "Thank you."

"Any time," said Kurt, getting up and heading for the door. "Pleasant dreams. Do you want to... you know... plan on tonight?"

"Maybe. I don't know. Leave your door cracked?"

"Ok," replied Kurt. Carson gave him a small smile as Kurt gently closed the door behind him, and stood up with a yawn. He quickly put on pajama pants and turned out his light before crawling into bed and cuddling up to his pillow.

_Who the hell has a screening room in their house?_ was his final thought before he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

He woke up hours later to a pitch black room, his bedside clock proudly proclaiming it to be almost two in the morning. He yawned and rubbed his eyes with one hand, hugging his pillow closer with the other. _I guess this counts out a session with Kurt. He's probably asleep by now. I won't wake him._ A dull rumbling sound cut into his thoughts, and he realized that it was coming from his stomach just as he remembered that he hadn't actually eaten anything since lunch at school. He sighed, not really wanting to leave the warmth of his bed, but hunger was winning out.

He made his way quietly downstairs, tip toeing into the kitchen and setting out gathering up ingredients to make a sandwich. He was so lost in thought as he spread jam on a piece of bread that he almost jumped straight out of his skin when he heard the doorknob rattling. He grabbed his butter knife, prepared to do battle with a masked intruder, but it turned out to only be his father, clearly trying his best to sneak inside the house. Between the barely disguised look of panic on Neal's face when he saw Carson standing there, and the fact that the air suddenly smelled a lot like perfume, it didn't take a genius to work out where he had been all night.

"What the hell are you doing up?" asked Neal sharply. "You should be in bed."

"I could say the same to you," replied Carson smoothly, going back to making his sandwich. "Late night at the office?" he asked casually.

"Uh... yeah," Neal replied, looking uncomfortable. "Really late."

"I bet," said Carson brightly. "You look like you've been working _very _hard." Neal didn't reply as Carson put the cap back on the jam jar and stuck it back in the fridge. "Tell me, Dad," he continued as he broke off a paper napkin from the holder on the counter. "Do you generally come home smelling like women's perfume after working late? It's really a very interesting scent. So different from what Mom wears. What is it, vanilla?"

The look on his father's face could have probably killed him if looks could be lethal, but Carson was completely unfazed. He sat down at the table with his sandwich, calmly taking a bite as Neal continued to glare at him.

"That's none of your concern," his father practically spat.

"I'm sure there are those who would severely beg to differ, Daddy Dear," said Carson coolly as he nibbled his sandwich skillfully into the shape of a star. "Like, say, Mom."

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," said Neal, avoiding eye contact with Carson now as he got a glass out of the cupboard and filled it with water from the tap.

"Right," replied Carson brightly. "Of course. You drink that water down, now. You look worn out." He finished the last bite of the sandwich and wiped his mouth delicately with the napkin before throwing it in the bin and standing up from the table. "By the way," he added as he made his way back toward the stairs, "You might want to do something about the lipstick stain on the collar of your shirt."

He quickly made his exit then, leaving a very angry and very baffled looking Neal behind as he hurried back to his bedroom. It took him a moment of adjusting his eyes to the darkness to realize that he wasn't alone in the room. There was a lump in his bed. A very long, lean, breathing lump that smelled of strawberry soap.

"I couldn't sleep," said Kurt. "You don't mind if I lay with you, do you?"

"Of course not," replied Carson, climbing into bed beside him and wrapping an arm around him. "You're welcome in my bed any time. Naked or otherwise."

Kurt snorted. "Pervert."

"And proud," said Carson with a smile, placing a kiss to the top of Kurt's forehead. "Let's get some sleep, shall we?"

* * *

"Ungh," Carson moaned, trying his best to keep quiet as Kurt worked himself on top of him, riding him with his hands planted firmly on Carson's chest. It was a Saturday night, and alcohol had been freely flowing since about three minutes after the twins had arrived at the Lopez house for their usual weekend party. It had taken about five drinks for Kurt to clumsily grab Carson by the hand and drag him upstairs into the nearest bedroom that didn't already have a couple screwing in it. He'd wasted no time practically throwing Carson onto the bed and yanking his clothes off.

"Ah..." Kurt groaned, working his hips in a circular motion while Carson did his drunken best to hang on to his waist. "Ungh... thrust up... thrust up and fuck me... fuuuck, yes, like that," he panted as Carson obeyed orders, thrusting his hips up into Kurt as hard as he possibly could and keeping at it. His rhythm was a little off because of all the alcohol fogging his brain. Ok, it was definitely off, but it was still pretty damn good, and the sounds Kurt was letting out were shooting straight to his groin. Riding wasn't usually their thing. In fact, if Carson had to choose a favorite position, he's probably pick taking Kurt from behind every time, but _damn_...he was beginning to think that they should definitely do this more often. The view was fantastic as Kurt steadied himself on his hands above him and arched his back, sweat glistening off his chest and his erection bouncing as he worked himself up and down on Carson's dick.

"Uh... uh... uuuh... fuck, gonna come..." Kurt moaned, moving faster as Carson did his best to match him. Kurt threw his head back and let out a whine low in his throat as he came, coating Carson's chest as his breaths came out in short, little gasps. Carson moaned and followed him, spilling into the condom and biting his lip to keep from screaming. Kurt leaned down and kissed him hungrily, his tongue darting out to taste and devour as Carson wrapped his arms around him, his hands resting on his ass and squeezing slightly, enough for Kurt to moan into the kiss.

"Fuck," Kurt panted out, dismounting and relieving Carson of his condom, which he tied up and threw on the floor before reaching into his pants pocket for a small moist towelette.

"You never come unprepared, do you?" asked Carson, watching Kurt as his twin tore open the packet with his teeth and started cleaning them both off with the wipe.

"There's an orgasm joke in there somewhere, but I'm entirely too drunk to know what it might be," Kurt slurred. "We should get out of here soon."

"We just got here," protested Carson. "I don't wanna go home."

"I meant out of this _room_," Kurt clarified as he started pulling his clothes back on. "I just realized it's Santana's bedroom."

"Oh, shit," Carson murmured as he reached for his own clothes, his eyes taking in the familiar black and red décor of his friend's bedroom. "Fuck, she'll kill us. You couldn't have dragged me into a guest bedroom?"

"You can't hold me responsible for decisions I make when I'm drunk and horny," replied Kurt, struggling with the buttons on his shirt. "I wasn't concentrating on whose room it was, I was a little busy thinking about tearing your clothes off."

"Yes, I can," muttered Carson. They dressed quickly and Carson grabbed Kurt by the hand as he yanked the door open and prayed that no one would see them coming out of the room with their rumpled hair and messy clothes. Unfortunately, luck was not on their side.

"Did you seriously just fuck in my bedroom?" asked Santana, her eyes narrowed at them as she sipped thoughtfully from a red cup and leaned up against the wall across from the door. "I didn't think you had the balls. Wanky."

"Shows how much you know," muttered Kurt. "I... I have _balls_, ok? Big ones."

"Kurt, stop it. You're drunk," said Carson, his cheeks turning hot at the way Kurt said the word.

"I have balls!" Kurt whined, leaning up against Carson.

"I know," replied Carson as Santana snorted into her drink.

"Relax, Phillips," she said, raising an eyebrow at them as the corners of her mouth turned up ever so slightly. "I kind of figured you were both brazen fuckers when I saw you rubbing Carson's junk under the desk in maths the other day."

"Jesus, Santana, will you shut up?" Carson hissed. "Anyone could hear you."

"Hey, guys, what's going o..." said a voice behind Carson, and he turned around only to inwardly groan as he saw Sebastian standing there, looking like the cat who got the cream as he took in Carson's disheveled appearance. Carson thanked his lucky stars that Kurt looked significantly better put together than he did, even if his signature hair swoosh was slightly out of place. "Ok, spill," Sebastian said, giving them an evil smile. "What just happened here and why wasn't I invited?"

"Oh, nothing," replied Santana before Carson could open his mouth to say anything. "I just gave Carson the blowjob of his life, hence the reason why he looks like his world was just rocked to the core. Not that it's any of _your_ business."

"Daaamn," Sebastian said with a low whistle.

"Eew," Kurt said quietly.

"Well, if either of you ever want a spectacular blowjob that only a man knows how to give, you make sure to call me," said Sebastian with a wink. "Kurt? Can I interest you?"

"No, thanks," mumbled Kurt, his cheeks turning bright red as Carson resisted the urge to scowl. Sebastian shrugged and winked at them as he turned back around, leaving the three of them alone in the hallway once again to stare at each other awkwardly.

"I do believe you owe me a favor," Santana said cheerfully, taking a long swig from her drink.

"Fuck," the twins murmured at the same time.

"Oh, calm your tits," she said, rolling her eyes. "I just saved you from certain embarrassment. How about a "Thank you, Aunty Tana" instead of bitching, hmm?"

"I will _not_ call you Aunty Tana," said Kurt, looping his arm through Carson's and pulling him close. "And Carson won't, either."

"Aaaaw, Kurt's jealous," Santana cooed.

"I am not," retorted Kurt.

"Yes, you are," she said, grinning. "By the way, I'll be sending you the dry cleaning bill for my sheets. Sweet twincest might be hot, but that doesn't mean I want to sleep in a bed full of your spunk."

* * *

The next few weeks were far busier than Carson would have liked, and he and Kurt barely had time to have any of what Santana had dubbed "Twincest Wanky Times," since they both were being pulled in so many directions with their studies and after-school activities. They were so busy and exhausted that it was rare they even had a moment to just hang out together, let alone do anything intimate, and to tell the truth, Carson was getting just a little bit antsy. He never even knew he would be capable of being so sexually frustrated, but he supposed that's what developing a healthy sexual appetite did to a person. He didn't think it was even just that, though. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but he thought that it probably had a lot to do with the fact that he found himself getting increasingly more jealous of the interaction between Kurt and Sebastian, which seemed to be constantly flirtatious ever since Sebastian had sort of integrated himself into their little group. The more Carson tried to tell himself that he had no right to be jealous, the more jealous he became, and the more he wondered just what the hell it was that he and Kurt had, exactly.

Surely he wasn't actually falling in _love_ with Kurt, right? That couldn't be it. That would just be stupid. No, it was strictly physical, and nothing more.

_Fuck buddies. We're just fuck buddies, and that's all._

For some reason, though, he just couldn't bring himself to fully believe that. No matter how much he wanted to.

He was sitting and stewing about this one Saturday afternoon as he, Santana, and Sebastian sat around a table at a local café, sipping on coffee and just enjoying a rare moment of hanging out doing nothing. Well, Kurt and Sebastian were drinking coffee. Santana had some kind of mocha whip thing, and Carson himself was sipping on a soda that he had snuck a bit of vodka into from a flask he'd carried inside his bag. The alcohol was needed, because if he had to listen to one more comment from Sebastian about how snugly Kurt's jeans fit him today, he was going to lose it.

"Hey, Kurt, I hate to interrupt the verbal rimming you and prep boy are giving each other right now, but who the hell is that?" asked Santana, cutting into Carson's thoughts and waving her mocha cup in the direction of the person she was talking about. It was a boy in a fancy uniform from the boys' prep school across town, wearing enough gel in his hair to create a turtle shell, and he was sitting demurely at a table with several other boys in identical uniforms as he stared unabashedly at their table.

Or, more precisely, at Kurt.

"Yeah, who's that?" asked Carson, narrowing his eyes at the guy. "And why does it look like he's undressing Kurt with his eyes?"

"Can you blame him?" asked Sebastian.

"_I_ can," grumbled Carson. "I just... I just don't take kindly to guys ogling my baby brother, that's all."

"Baby brother, hmm?" said Sebastian with a chuckle as Kurt blushed right to the roots of his hair. "Protective big brother mode is super hot on you, Carson. _Super_ hot."

"I've seen that guy around town sometimes," spoke up Kurt quickly with a shrug as he sipped at his coffee. "He always smiles at me and shit, but he's not really my type. He's a little short."

"I'm guessing guys your exact height are more your speed?" asked Sebastian, and Kurt quickly stared down into his coffee cup.

Carson was about to give him a sarcastic reply, but he immediately forgot all about it as the staring guy got up from his table and started walking over to theirs, flanked on either side by two of his identically dressed friends. He prepared himself to have to tell the guy to get lost, but he simply sat in shocked silence instead as the guy opened his mouth and began to sing, with the other boys providing acapella backup.

"_Let's have some fun, this beat is sick, I wanna take a ride on your disco stick..."_

Carson was pretty sure his jaw hit the table as he gaped at the spectacle unfolding before his eyes. Kurt looked similarly speechless, not to mention embarrassed beyond belief as Hair Gel Guy danced around him, while Santana looked horrified and Sebastian looked amused. The rest of the customers in the café were displaying a range of reactions, although most of them were somewhat a mix between Sebastian and Santana.

_What the actual fuck is this assclown doing?_ Carson thought as he hoped and prayed for the song to end soon. _Does he think that he's gonna get into Kurt's pants this way, or..._

Mercifully, the boys finally stopped singing, and the lead guy looked hopefully at Kurt with a raise of his triangular eyebrows while Carson and pretty much everybody else in the building waited to see what would happen next.

"I know you don't know me," the guy spoke up, "But I've seen you around town and, well... I think you're really hot. And I was wondering if maybe you'd want to go out with me?"

Carson hid his smile as Kurt gave the guy his very best "Bitch, please" look and locked eyes with him.

"So, you thought you'd ask me out with... whatever the fuck _that_ embarrassment was instead of just asking me like a normal person?" asked Kurt. The guy's face fell so fast that it was almost comical, and Carson snorted into his cup.

"So... that's a no, then?" asked the guy.

"That's a hell no," said Kurt sweetly, flashing the guy a smile before taking a long sip from his coffee cup.

"Well... um... how about you?" the guy asked, smiling widely and turning his attention to Sebastian, who smiled right back at him and shook his head.

"Yeaaaah... no..." said Sebastian, his smile never wavering. "No. Thanks, though."

There was an awkward silence for several minutes while everybody stared at each other and Carson downed the rest of his vodka spiked soda before the guy and his friends filed out of the café, their looks ranging from irritated to disappointed.

"Ok, what the fucking hell fuck was that shit?" asked Santana, breaking the silence at last. "Seriously, what the hell did I just witness? Did we all get alien probed?"

"Hell if I know," replied Carson. "But if he had continued much longer I was going to have to punch him in the dick, and it wasn't going to be pretty."

They stuck around only long enough to pay their check and leave, because Kurt had apparently decided it was the perfect time to start brushing his fingers up against the front of Carson's jeans under the table, and Carson was going to lose his shit if they didn't get out of there as soon as possible. Thankfully, both Santana and Sebastian had places to be, so they didn't ask too many questions when Carson practically dragged Kurt out of the café, although Santana did give them a raised eyebrow.

The walk home was torture, and it felt like hours before they finally reached their house and burst through the door, Kurt taking off his jacket and practically throwing himself at Carson the moment the door was closed behind them.

"Kurt, Jesus, what if Mom and Dad are..." Carson began, but he was interrupted by Kurt attacking his lips with his own as his twin backed himself up against the kitchen counters and pulled Carson to him.

"They're not," Kurt gasped in between kisses. "No cars in the drive," he added, his fingers fumbling with the zipper of Carson's jeans as Carson pulled up Kurt's long sleeved T-shirt to gain access to his twin's chest. The thought of asking "But what if they _come _home?" left his mind as he leaned down to suck kisses greedily into the pale, creamy skin, his lips and tongue roaming everywhere he could reach as he wished he could taste everything at once. His pants were becoming uncomfortably tight as he felt his dick swelling inside, and by the looks of Kurt's pants, which left little to the imagination, his twin was in the same situation.

"Pocket," Kurt uttered breathily as he ran his fingers through Carson's hair. "My pocket... lube and condom..."

"Always fucking prepared," Carson murmured, sucking one of Kurt's nipples into his mouth as he fumbled with his pockets. How the hell his twin managed to hide the travel sized bottle of lube in such tight pants was beyond him, but apparently he had. Carson fished out the bottle and a wrapped condom, tearing open one and uncapping the other as he shrugged his jeans and underwear the rest of the way off and Kurt did the same. He watched in awe as Kurt hoisted himself up on the counter, his bare ass touching the tile, and gave him a pleading look.

"Just lube yourself up," he ordered, yanking the condom out of Carson's hands and unrolling it onto him. "I don't want to wait, I just want you."

"Fuck," Carson murmured, swallowing hard as he followed instructions. He covered his erection with a generous amount of lube, swirling some around Kurt's entrance with his finger before he lined himself up and gently began to push himself inside.

"Oh... OH, oh god," Kurt gasped, his hands scrabbling at Carson's back, and Carson moaned as he felt nails digging into his skin. He loved whenever he had a back full of scratch marks after he and Kurt fucked. They were like a constant reminder that they'd had fun. That Carson had reduced Kurt to something primal and animal, something that could only be expressed through physical aggression.

He pulled almost all the way out before plunging back in, earning a scream from Kurt as a reward, and he repeated the action, thoroughly enjoying the loud moans that his twin wasn't even bothering to keep quiet as he held onto Carson's neck for dear life and wrapped his legs securely around his waist. Carson began increasing his pace until he was fucking him in earnest, the sound of grunts, moans, and skin slapping against skin filling the kitchen until something just broke inside both of them and they came at the exact same time, something that had never happened before. It was intense, so much so that Carson seriously thought he was going to die, and the sounds coming out of both of them would have put any porno to shame.

It was, quite frankly, the most passionate, intense moment of Carson's life. And, from the look Kurt gave him as they locked eyes and came down from their orgasms, his twin felt the same.

"Oh my _God_," Kurt gasped as Carson pulled out and threw away the condom, making sure to hide it under several layers of trash.

"I know," Carson agreed, his breath still coming out in short pants as he took Kurt back into his arms and rested his forehead against his. "Fuck, I can't believe we did that."

Kurt giggled, kissing Carson on the lips and cupping his face in his hands. "We should abstain for weeks on end more often if this is what comes of it," he said, hopping down from the counter and wincing as he reached for a paper napkin. He wet one for himself and one for Carson, and they quickly cleaned themselves up before reaching for their pants.

"I don't know," said Carson as he pulled his pants on and fumbled with the zipper. "I don't think I can go that long on a regular basis without-"

The sudden, horrified look on Kurt's face made him stop talking, and as soon as he turned around he knew exactly why his twin looked like that. All the blood drained from his face as he looked over at the archway between the kitchen and the living room, where both of their parents stood staring at them. The shock on their mother's face was bad, but the absolutely demonically angry look on their father's face was worse.

Nobody said anything for several long minutes. Carson didn't know about anyone else, but he knew that he _couldn't _speak. He couldn't even move. He stood rooted to the spot, his pants still half unzipped, knowing for absolute certain that he was dead. There was no way around it, his father was going to kill him. His heart was beating in his chest at such a rapid pace that he thought it would fall out, and every breath he took was a struggle as his face radiated with heat.

"What. The FUCK. Is going on here?" their father asked at last, his voice low and very dangerous as he fixed his eyes on Carson, looking very much like he wanted to strangle him. Carson glanced over to Kurt, who looked absolutely terrified, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open as he looked at their parents.

"I... Dad, I..." Kurt stammered.

"No," Neal interrupted him, continuing to glare at Carson. "I'm talking to your brother. Your good for nothing, piece of shit asshole of a brother," he added, taking several menacing steps toward Carson, who couldn't move even if he wanted to. "Just what the fuck... I'll kill you!" he shouted, closing the distance between himself and Carson and grabbing him by the neck of his hoodie, throwing him up against the wall and pinning him there as Carson yelped in pain at the sharp contact between his back and the hard wall.

"You think you can live in my house, act like an ungrateful little shit, and do vile, disgusting things to my son?!" Neal bellowed in his face, flecks of spit hitting Carson as his father frothed with rage. He'd never seen him so angry before, not even when he was very small and would get yelled at for breaking a dish or touching Neal's briefcase without permission. Nothing compared to the way he looked now as he pulled Carson back and slammed him up against the wall again. Carson started shaking with genuine fear as he struggled against his father's iron grip.

"You think you can take advantage of him, influence him to mutilate himself, use him for your own sick, perverted shit?" Neal screamed.

"Dad, let go of him!" Kurt cried, tears falling down his cheeks as he watched the scene unfolding in front of him. "Please!"

"I will not!" roared Neal. He raised one fist in the air, and Carson barely had time to react before it was connecting with his eye, jolts of pain radiating up and down his face as he tried to fall to the floor, but his father wouldn't let go of him. He heard Kurt scream and his mother gasp, and the next thing he knew there were hands pushing his father away and Kurt was holding him, cradling Carson's face to his chest so that all Carson could see and feel was the soft fabric of Kurt's shirt as it brushed against his throbbing face.

"Get away from him, Kurt," Neal ordered.

"No!" screamed Kurt. "No," he repeated, a little softer as he stroked Carson's hair. "I won't let you hurt him!"

"Hurt _him_?" Neal spat. "He's been hurting _you_! He's a fucking shit who should have never been born, like I've always said, and he's goddamn lucky that we didn't go through with nipping him in the bud when we had the chance," he finished. Carson was suddenly very grateful for the cover of Kurt's shirt so that no one could see the tears that were falling from his eyes. He felt himself involuntarily quivering when Neal yanked him by the hoodie away from Kurt and got back up in his face, his eyes narrowed at him in unimaginable anger.

"I want you out of my house," he said in a low voice that was almost a growl. "Now. You have ten seconds to get out, or I will escort you out by your goddamn neck."

"Dad," Kurt pleaded.

"Ten seconds," Neal repeated. "One... two... _three_..."

Carson didn't wait for him to finish. He got up as best he could, considering that his legs were wobbling so badly he could barely move, and practically threw himself out of the kitchen door and into the cold air of the approaching dusk.

"Don't you fucking think about coming back!" he heard his father yell after him. He ignored him and ran as he found the strength in his legs again. He didn't think about where he was going or what he would do when he got there. He didn't think about how freezing it was, or the fact that he could see his breath puffing out in front of him. He just ran as fast as he could, as far away from the house as he could, as far away from his parents and Kurt as he could.

_I have to get away. I have to get far away. I have to disappear and everyone has to forget about me, and then everything will be fine, but I have to get away._

_I hate everything. Everything hates me._

* * *

Kurt honestly didn't know how he managed not to have a nervous breakdown that afternoon. He supposed it was the shock of it all. One minute he and Carson had been looking at each other in their usual giddy, blissful afterglow, and the next everything had suddenly turned to shit.

"Where is he supposed to go?" he demanded, screaming at his father after Carson had ran out of the house. "_Where_? It's freezing outside! He doesn't even have his jacket," he cried, glancing forlornly over at Carson's heavy coat, which had been hastily shed that afternoon in the heat of passion when they had arrived home.

"Good," his father replied. "Maybe it'll freeze the freak right out of him."

"He doesn't have anywhere to go," Kurt pleaded. "It's getting dark soon, and the temperature's going to drop. He could die!"

"We can only hope," spat Neal, turning on his heel and storming out of the kitchen. Kurt turned his attention over to his mother, who hadn't said a word the entire time, except to gasp in surprise when Neal had punched Carson.

"Mom, you can't let him do this," he pleaded. "You can't!"

Sheryl just looked at him for a moment, opening her mouth as if she wanted to say something, but apparently changing her mind. She turned and left too, leaving Kurt alone in the kitchen. He hugged his knees to his chest, letting himself sob for only a moment before a sense of determination overtook his soul.

If Carson wasn't welcome at home, then Kurt sure as fuck wasn't going to stay there, either.

He got up, grabbing his and Carson's coats, and marched himself upstairs. He threw open his closet and yanked out two duffel bags, which he filled with some clothes and other necessities before going into Carson's room. He gathered up some of Carson's clothes, along with two blankets, pillows, and the journal Carson thought he didn't know about, and dragged the full bags down the stairs, where his parents were sitting at the kitchen table just staring into space.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" asked Neal. "Get back upstairs with those bags."

"No," Kurt said defiantly. "I'm going after him, and you can't stop me."

"Get back upstairs, Kurt," Neal ordered.

"I said _no_," said Kurt, glaring at him. "I'm not going to let him go through this alone. He's my... he's my brother, and I won't... where he goes, I go," he finished.

"Kurt," his mother spoke up, but Kurt had had enough.

"You can't just treat him like this," he said shakily. "You can't just treat him like shit his entire life, you can't just tell him every day how much you never wanted him. Nobody deserves to be treated that way, not even you!" he screamed. "He didn't do anything _to_ me. Nothing that I didn't fucking _want_ him to, and if that makes me a sick freak or whatever the hell you think, then good. I'm a sick freak, too." He stormed past them and out the door, putting on his coat and holding one duffel bag in each hand as he looked around helplessly.

_Carson. Carsey, where are you, baby?_

He yanked his phone out of his pocket, knowing that Carson probably wouldn't answer but hoping that a miracle would happen anyway.

Nothing.

_Come on, Carson, I have to know you're alright_, he thought frantically as he started walking aimlessly down the street. His brain ran through all the possibilities of where Carson could be, each one more horrifying than the last. He could be in an alley somewhere, he could be on a bus to London, he could have been _hit_ by a bus and laying dead in the street somewhere, and Kurt would never see him again, and it would be all his fault for not insisting that they have sex in the bedroom in the first place, and...

_Jesus, Kurt, calm down._

So he tried to. He put himself in Carson's shoes and tried to figure out where he would go if he was Carson and didn't feel like anyone in the world really cared about him.

Well, he would probably go to the one person who _did_ care about him. Even if she didn't remember who he was.

_I'm coming, Carson._


End file.
